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From  the  Child's   Standpoint 


PARENTS'   LIBRARY 

By  FLORENCE   HULL  WINTERBURN 


NURSERY   ETHICS 

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FROM    THE   CHILD'S    STANDPOINT 

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THE  CHILDREN'S  HEALTH 

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From  the   Child's  Standpoint 

Views  of  Child  Life  and  Nature 
e/^  'Book  for  Tarents  and  Teachers 


BY 

Florence   Hull  Winterburn 

c/lutbor  of  "U^urserjy  Ethics" 


SECOND    THOUSAND 


New  York 

The  Baker  and  Taylor  Company 

33-37  ^^'  Seventeenth  Street 

m\  J90/ 


Copyright,  1899, 

BY 

THE  BAKER   AND  TAYLOR  COMPANY 


ROBERT  DRUMMOND.   PRINTER.   NEW  YORK. 


TO 

BII  %ovete  of  CbUBtcn 


Preface 

The  only  reason  any  book  has  for  being  is  that 
it  contains  something  which  people  cannot  do 
without.  Tried  by  this  standard  this  little  book 
has  for  some  time  faltered  upon  the  threshold,  and 
would  not  appear  now  but  for  the  belief  of  the 
author  that  it  presents  a  few  truths  which,  though 
eA'ident  to  all  the  world,  are  usually  ignored.  In 
the  course  of  a  varied  life  experience  I  have  con- 
tinually observed  persons  expressing  one  kind  of 
belief  concerning  children,  and  acting  out  another; 
and  it  has  seemed  to  me  that  the  great  bar  to  an 
understanding  of  the  little  creatures  is  the  intense, 
persistent  egotism  of  adults. 

All  kindly  disposed  persons  make  occasional 
efforts  to  establish  friendly  relations  with  children, 
but  anything  which  is  only  partly  comprehended 
soon  becomes  wearisome;  and  as  child  nature  is 
a  profound  subject,  and,  as  Dick  Swiveller  said  of 
beer,  "  cannot  be  tasted  in  sips,"  most  people  give 
over  such  efforts  long  before  any  real  interest  has 
been  aroused  in  their  minds. 

In  the  study  of  human  nature  a  moment's  honest 


Vlll 


Preface 


sympathy  is  worth  years  of  theorizing,  and  if  we 
wish  to  know  a  child  as  he  really  is  we  must  think 
and  feel  just  as  he  does.  My  sympathy  has  always 
gone  out  instinctively  to  children;  the  impulse  to 
look  at  matters  from  their  point  of  view  has  over- 
borne any  ambition  that  may  once  have  existed 
to  be  wise  from  an  adult  standpoint.  This  may 
explain  the  lack  of  systematic  form  in  this  volume. 
There  are  here  only  a  series  of  little  studies  or 
sketches,  woven  together  by  a  slight  thread,  in 
which  I  have  tried  to  relate,  as  the  child's  spokes- 
man, some  of  his  ideas,  feelings,  and  needs.  It  is 
sent  forth  as  a  missive  from  the  child  world,  and 
if  I  have  erred  in  my  interpretation  of  their  natures, 
have  been  superficial  where  I  should  have  been  pro- 
found, or  weak  where  their  champion  should  have 
been  strong,  the  fault  lies  not  with  neglect,  but  in 
my  incapacity.  And  my  dear  children  will  pardon 
their  friend. 

For  courteous  permission  to  reprint  certain  mat- 
ter that  has  previously  appeared  in  their  publica- 
tions I  have  to  thank  the  publishers  of  Th^ 
Woman's  Home  Companion,  The  Sunday  School 
Times,  and  Harper's  Bazar. 

F.  H.  W. 

New  York.  March  6,  1899. 


Contents 

PACK 

I.  The  Real  Home 13 

II.  Natural  Religion 21 

III.  Honesty  AND  Politeness 28 

IV.  The  Choice  of  a  Life  Pursuit 37 

V.  The  City  Child  in  the   Country 44 

VI.  Happiness  and  Duty 52 

VII,  The  Dear  World  of  Fancy 58 

VIII.  Holly  and   Mistletoe 64 

IX.  A  View  of  School  Life 75 

X.  Children  Love  Color 88 

XI.  Personalities  and  Vanity 92 

XII.  When  Character  is  Forming 100 

XIII.  The  Flower  of   Innocence 106 

XIV.  Growth  in  Self-government 115 

XV.  The  Right  to  be  Understood 120 

XVI.  An  Up-hill  Journey 126 

XVII.  Innocence  is  Easy  Prey 134 

XVIII.  Childish   Affinities 140 

XIX.  Cultivating  Taste 146 

-    XX.  Picture-thinking 150 

XXI.  The  Little  Mother 156 

XXII.  An  Inevitable  Separation 162 

XXIII.  Cheerfulness 166 

XXIV.  A   Family  Tyrant 170 

XXV.  Energy  and  Temper 176 

ix 


X  Contents 

PACK 

XXVI.  Baby  Wants  a  Corner 183 

XXVII.  Nothing  Lasts  but  Love 187 

XXVIII.   Pleasures  of  Ownership 191 

XXIX.  The  Moral  Se-nse 196 

XXX.  An  Office  of  Motherhood 203 

XXXI.  Curiosity 211 

XXXII.  Nursery  Note-books 218 

XXXIII.  Dialect  in  the  Nursery 226 

XXXIV.  The  Spirit  of  Christmas 231 

XXXV.  The  Washington  Pickaninny 241 

XXXVI.  Faith 249 

XXXVII.  Infant  Hoodooism 254 

XXXVIII.  The  Passing   of  Childhood 262 

XXXIX.  Planning  for  Our  Children 270 


There  is  no  plummet  science  can  throw  that  will  infallibly 
sound  the  depths  of  the  most  simple  child's  heart  and  mind. 
If  he  thinks  our  thoughts  and  shares  our  feelings  it  is  with 
one  signal  difference:  narrow  and  concentrated  vision  gives 
him  an  intensity  that  we  rarely  experience.  Where  we  are 
broad  and  shallow,  he  is  keen;  true  to  instincts  that  have  not 
been  dulled  by  the  thousand  conflicting  interests  which  are 
recognized  by  older  minds.  So  if  we  would  know  the  child 
as  he  is,  we  must  know  him  through  his  feelings,  source 
of  all  his  acts  and  aims.  By  viewing  him  in  detail  we  may 
finally  see  his  nature  as  a  whole.  And  from  childhood's  pure 
hopes,  wishes,  and  beliefs,  we  may,  if  we  will,  construct  an 
ideal  of  humanity  nobler  than  that  which  we  now  think  great 
and  good. 


From  the  Child's'  Standpoint 

The  Real  Home 

I  ONCE  knew  a  man  possessed  of  large  means, 
the  owner  of  a  handsome  residence  in  which  noth- 
ing that  a  refined  taste  could  wish  seemed  wanting, 
who  always  spoke  of  his  dwelling  as  "  the  house." 
In  fifteen  years'  acquaintance  I  never  heard  him 
utter  the  word  "  home  "  in  connection  with  the 
abode  of  which  he  was  master.  Putting  together 
certain  details  that  were  puzzling  at  the  time,  the 
reason  of  this  curiously  reserved  attitude  has  oc- 
curred to  me.  The  air  of  that  house  was  garish, 
bald  ;  everything  was  exposed  to  public  view. 
What  artists  call  "  atmosphere,"  that  soft  film 
which  seems  to  make  a  picture  stand  back  envel- 
oped in  its  surroundings,  was  lacking.  Things  of 
beauty  were  present,  company  was  plentiful,  and 
everything  pertaining  to  bodily  comfort  was  sup- 
plied without  stint.  But  there  was  no  soul  in  any 
of  it.  The  whole  house  was  hke  a  ball-room  ;  a 
place  to  riot  in,  to  have  a  good  time  ;  but  there  was 
not  a  corner  from  attic  to  cellar  where  gentle  in- 

13 


/ 


14  The  Real  Home 

fluences  seemed  to  dwell  and  that  met  the  needs  of 
one's  higher  nature.  No  wonder  that  its  inmates 
merely  stayed  there,  and  that  to  the  little  children 
who  grew  up  within  its  walls  the  word  "  home  " 
never  possessed  any  sweetness  or  sacred  meaning. 

A  child's  instinct  in  this  matter,  as  in  most,  is 
true.  He  feels  the  presence  or  the  absence  of  what 
ministers  to  happiness  while  yet  he  is,  like  the 
scholar  smitten  with  word-dumbness,  unable  to  ex- 
press that  of  which  he  is  so  acutely  aware.  Some 
of  us,  however,  have  the  power  to  recall  our  youth- 
ful mental  experiences  vividly  in  after-life  wdien 
riper  knowledge  throws  a  new  light  upon  them.  It 
is  through  such  candid  self-analysis  united  with 
keen  observation  of  living  children  that  we  come 
to  find  out  what  is  of  the  most  serious  concern  to 
them. 
V '  First  of  all,  childhood  is  naturally  honest  ;  the 
1  import  of  a  fact  lies  in  the  fact  itself,  not  in  what 
other  people  think  about  it.  If  home  is  comfort- 
aible,  if  repose  is  to  be  found  there,  and  if  it  afifords 
a  secure  and  sympathetic  shelter  for  the  little  fan- 
cies, notions,  and  aspirations  that  bubble  up  contin- 
ually in  a  child's  heart,  luxury  is  present  so  far  as 
he  is  concerned.  But  stiffness,  conventionality, 
and  the  arrangement  of  matters  upon  the  basis  of 
making  a  good  appearance  before  the  world  chill 
his   innocent,    straightforward    nature.      Hardest, 


The  Real  Home  15 

sternest  of  lessons  is  this,  that  the  house  is  man- 
aged with  the  view  of  pleasing  strangers  and  that 
the  best  side  is  always  to  be  turned  outward,  while 
no  pains  are  taken  to  smooth  and  beautify  the 
seamy  side  that  is  deemed  good  enough  for  the 
family.  A  child  loves  beauty;  not  elegance,  style, 
nor  that  outward  varnish  which  is  like  the  artificial 
freshness  of  a  worn-out  actress,  but  real,  genuine 
loveliness  which  is  possessed  of  the  first  essential 
quality  of  beauty,  namely,  that  it  meets  some  want 
of  one's  nature.  Ruskin  maintained  that  no  orna- 
ment was  appropriate  upon  a  lady's  dress  which 
did  not  serve  some  useful  purpose.  Tlius,  brooches 
are  justified,  while  necklaces  are  barbaric. 

So,  the  child  and  the  genius  meet  upon  the  com- 
mon ground  of  integrity.  That  thing  is  beautiful 
to  him  which  is  associated  with  pleasure.  The 
stately  drawing-room  where  he  must  keep  his 
hands  behind  his  back  and  walk  upon  tiptoe  is  as 
alien  to  his  affections  as  the  fine  arts  gallery  or  the 
cathedral,  which  excite  admiration  and  awe  but 
have  no  part  in  his  real  life.  It  is  well  enough  to 
set  aside  some  such  altar  for  society  if  one  has 
space  to  spare,  and  it  may  then  be  regarded  as  a 
thing  apart.  But  how  desolate  is  the  atmosphere 
of  a  house  where  appearances  are  kept  up  through- 
out, and  not  a  niche  exists  where  one's  own  per- 
sonality may  expand  and  overflow  freely. 


1 6  The  Real  Home 

It  is  not  disorder  that  can  create  this  congenial 
atmosphere  ;  it  is  the  feeHng  of  entire  possession. 
Watch  some  little  child  enter  the  house  with  hasty- 
step  and  quivering  lip,  and  make  way  straight  for 
the  old  lounge  in  the  upper  hall,  which  reached  he 
throws  his  satchel  of  books  down  and  burying  his 
face  in  the  familiar  pillows  sobs  out  his  griefs  and 
his  disappointment  into  their  motherly  depths,  ris- 
ing comforted  somehow  by  the  feeling  that  if  hard- 
ships assail  him  outside,  here  are  peace,  sympathy, 
and  refuge. 

The  master  of  a  mansion,  desirous  of  repose, 
strides  through  the  house  to  his  smoking-den  or 
dressing-room  and  there  gets  comfort  from  the 
sight  of  some  dingy  old  object  that  has  had  ups 
and  downs  in  his  company  and  seems  to  under- 
stand his  moods.  The  mistress  shuts  herself  into 
her  own  room  and  gazes  with  filling  eyes  upon  the 
flotsam  that  has  come  down  from  her  old  girl- 
hood's home,  and  the  dear  association  makes  her 
feel  less  forlorn  in  that  hour  when  all  the  riches  re- 
fined taste  has  gathered  together  fail  to  ease  her 
heart. 

How  human,  then,  to  desire  in  a  home  those 
things  congenial  to  one's  self,  and  that  we  can  cen- 
tre our  afifections  upon  and  feel  easy  with.  The  true 
home  atmosphere  exists  where  this  blessed  air  of 
congeniality  salutes  one  at  the  front  door,  not  be- 


The  Real  Home  17 

ing  confined  to  separate  rooms  but  spreading 
throughout  the  whole  house,  and  drawing  one  into 
communion  with  the  other  members  of  one's  fam- 
ily. And  this  suggests  the  next  point,  which  is 
that  harmony,  that  delicious  thing  made  up  of 
agreement  between  different  tempers,  and  accord 
and  unity  of  aim  and  pursuit  amongst  the  inmates, 
is  as  the  pure  air  of  heaven,  where  all  that  is  best 
and  happiest  in  child-nature  can  expand  without 
limit.  As  the  blast  of  Sahara  upon  a  delicate  rose 
is  a  storm  of  dissension  between  the  father  and 
mother  in  its  effect  upon  the  happy  confidence  of 
the  child's  heart.  Let  there  be  love  in  a  home,  and 
more  than  that,  a  confidential,  cheery  habit  of  in- 
tercourse. With  this  present,  one  poor  room  may 
be  paradise,  and  without  it — well,  the  child  might 
as  well  stop  shivering  upon  the  door-step  as  enter 
in  where  the  biting  frost  of  unkind  criticism  and 
distrust,  the  cold  temper  of  mutual  dislike  are  in 
possession  of  the  house. 

But  harmony  presupposes  a  certain  lack  of  ego- 
tism amongst  the  members  of  a  family.  No  one 
must  be  wholly  occupied  with  his  own  concerns  or 
absorbed  with  his  ow^n  development.  Especially 
must  the  mother  be,  to  a  great  extent,  disengaged. 
If  there  is  a  being  in  the  world  who  must,  in  order 
to  fulfill  her  natural  duties,  care  more  for  the  hap- 
piness and  welfare  of  others  than  her  own,  it  is  the 


i8  The  Real  Home 


mother  of  a  family.  She  is  the  centre  of  its  hfe,  the 
creator  of  its  atmosphere.  To  her  all  look  for  sym- 
pathy, for  comfort,  for  companionship.  If  she  is 
wrapt  up  in  pursuits  that  relate  only  to  herself,  and 
that  are  apart  from  the  general  interest,  it  is  as  if 
the  sun,  upon  which  humanity  depends,  should  be- 
gin to  absorb  his  own  light  and  heat  upon  the  plea 
of  self-improvement.  A  woman  standing  side  by 
side  with  her  husband  and  among  her  children,  liv- 
ing with  them  the  life  of  highest  culture,  is  a  beau- 
tiful spectacle  ;  while  the  same  woman  immersed 
in  affairs  alien  to  theirs  must  be  regarded  as  a  de- 
serter from  duties  she  has  engaged  herself  for,  and 
her  home  viewed  as  a  mere  shell  from  which  the 
living  element  has  departed. 

From  the  child's  standpoint.    We  are  looking  at 

1   this  matter  as  the  straightforward,  clear-eyed  little 

I    one  looks  at  it.     To  him  home  and  motherhood 

j   are   one   idea.     Whether   the    good    genius    be   a 

I    mother  in  the  flesh,  an  elder  sister,  or  relative  who 

has  the  supervision  of  the  house,  he  craves  of  her 

that   brooding,  tender  quality  that   spreads  itself 

around  him  as  a  gentle  shelter  keeping  off  the 

harsh  world. 

This  delicate  care  may,  as  I  said,  make  a  home 
out  of  an  ugly  room  or  a  bleak  tenement.  It  is  at- 
mosphere that  childhood  most  wants;  a  kindly 
veil  that  separates  its  private  life  from  the  staring 


The  Real  Home  19 

public.  But  the  ideal  is  to  have  the  power  of  reser- 
vation extended.  A  house  set  out  against  a  side- 
walk must  have  very  peculiar  qualities  within  to 
render  it  individual  in  character.  How  quickly 
one's  heart  goes  out  to  some  pretty  structure 
nestled  back  among  trees,  with  grass  and  flowers 
as  a  foreground,  and  approached  by  a  winding 
walk  which  seems  to  suggest  that  strangers  are  not 
easily  admitted  into  the  sanctuary  beyond  !  The 
passionate  love  of  a  child  for  a  tree  is  something 
that  not  every  one  understands.  If  he  is  happy 
enough  to  own  a  yard  and  a  tree  nature  is  his  fos- 
ter-mother, and  if  orphaned  elsewhere,  he  finds  a 
home.  Perhaps  most  of  us  would  find,  on  looking 
back,  that  some  of  our  happiest  recollections  clus- 
ter about  a  spot  where  trees,  water,  and  grass 
made  the  beauty  and  pleasure  of  the  scene. 

And  if  we  may  not  do  more  to  meet  the  instinc- 
tive child-longing  for  Nature's  companionship,  let 
us  give  him  a  garden  planted  in  a  box.  With  seeds, 
roots,  and  earth  he  may  persuade  himself  that  he 
is  a  landowner.  A  living  pet,  too,  is  an  important 
element  of  home  life.  There  is  such  reality,  such  a 
suggestion  of  primitive,  simple  existence  about  the 
domestic  animals,  that  they  often  comfort  a  child 
when  the  world  becomes  too  hard  for  him  to  un- 
derstand. 


When  Emerson  protested  against  the  irrationality  of  a 
"  cachinnating  human  being,"  he  surely  did  not  mean  to 
include  the  merry  outburst  of  a  child.  It  comes  to  me  now, 
as  I  sit  at  my  window,  that  sweet,  high  peal  of  irrepressible 
delight,  accompanied  by  the  clapping  of  tiny  hands,  and  there 
is  brought  back  to  me,  with  a  swift  rush  of  memories,  a  time 
when  one  sweet  little  voice  and  one  blithesome  young  spirit 
made  music  in  a  home  that  is  quiet  enough  now,  with  the 
disturbing  element  of  childish  frolic  and  mischief  gone — 
forever.  "  Strange  we  never  miss  the  music  till  the  sweet- 
voiced  bird  has  flown."  A  thousand  times  within  the  first 
few  happy  years  of  a  child's  life  we  say  "  Hush,"  and  in  the 
long  quiet  years  that  come  afterward  we  would  give  all  we 
are  worth  to  hear  again  the  little  voice  we  then  stilled. 


Natural  Religion 

Beneath  the  gross  superstitions  of  savages  are 
many  poetical  fancies,  unsuspected  even  by  them- 
selves. Stripped  of  all  the  hideous  ceremonies  that 
appal  the  missionary,  there  is  a  great,  broad,  free 
sweep  of  the  undisciplined  imagination  that 
catches  from  space  a  few  of  those  wonder- 
ful outline  pictures  of  faith  from  which  educated 
minds  shrink  in  affright.  The  concession  made 
that  only  "  fools  rush  in  "  hallowed  places  involves 
the  condemnation  of  all  the  great  religious  reform- 
ers. Rather  it  is  the  timidity  of  angels  which  has 
permitted  moss  to  grow  on  the  pathway  to  heaven. 

The  children  of  nature,  fierce  and  vicious  in  their 
conceptions  of  mutual  relations  among  themselves, 
and  cowardly  in  their  abject  worship  of  a  deity  sup- 
posed to  be  equally  vicious,  nevertheless  strike 
straight  through  the  clouds  of  doubt  to  the  light 
beyond,  in  their  innocent  appropriation  of  the  one 
great  privilege  that  constitutes  the  whole  of  relig- 
ious life — bold,  frank  intercourse  with  God.  Their 
mode  of  carrying  on  this  intercourse  is  usually  ig- 
noble, in  rare  cases  singularly  beautiful  ;  the  fire 

kindled  in  the  damp  bog  and  that  lit  on  the  clean 

ai 


22  Natural  Religion 

hillside  send  up  respectively  rolls  of  murky  smoke 
pid  feathery  gray  flames,  yet  both  roll  upward,  and 
the  vital  spark  is  beneath.  That  is  the  one  impor- 
tant fact. 

Whatever  is  young  is  in  the  stage  of  savagery, 
and  along  with  lack  of  the  virtues  which  come  of 
refinement,  possesses  the  primal  virtue  of  faith. 
The  children  of  our  hearths  watching  the  glow  of 
dusky  diamonds  in  the  grate  of  burnished  steel, 
neither  see  nor  think  of  any  of  the  processes  of 
mining  and  hauling,  of  laying  and  igniting,  that 
the  luxurious  house  owner  has  commanded  to  be 
done  :  they  see  the  clear  forest  flame,  bask  in  the 
warmth,  and  seize  from  the  gnome-figures  that 
dance  up  the  chimney  that  subtle  something 
thrown  from  their  flying  wings  which,  like  a  dash 
of  gold  dust,  glorifies  all  surroundings.  And  then 
their  vivacious  minds,  having  received  the  impetus, 
are  ofif  on  a  chase  after  the  flying  sprites,  to  the 
wild-wood,  to  caverns,  mountain  tops,  and  amidst 
clouds  ;  and  there,  uplifted  above  earthly  fetters 
of  doubt,  they  pursue  their  fearless  inquiry  into 
the  unknown. 

In  the  dusk  of  a  fair  autumn  twilight  the  rising 
moon  often  peeps  down  on  some  little  face  pressed 
close  against  the  glass,  gazing  out  with  all  his  heart 
in  his  eyes  and  sensing  with  an  instinct  as  yet  un- 
dulled,  that  great  Presence  mature,  world-spoiled 


Natural  Religion  23 

minds  vainly  seek  to  find.  "  The  sky  is  my  relig- 
ion," said  once  a  sensitive,  fanciful  child,  given  to 
solitary  musing.  She  used  to  watch,  with  fascin- 
ated attention,  the  play  of  light  on  the  shifting 
clouds  at  sunset,  and  a  wild  storm  filled  her  with 
delight  because  it  gave  her  the  feeling  that  the  still 
Power  always  about  her  was  become  vigilant,  ac- 
tive, alive. 

'^  The  natural  religion  of  childhood  is  simple  faith 
in  God.  Before  theologies  confuse,  and  contradic- 
tory teachings  depress  their  understanding,  they 
hold  innocent,  happy  communion  with  the  life  of 
the  world  as  revealed  in  nature.  The  saturnine 
temperament  has  little  need  or  desire  for  it,  and 
yet,  even  to  such  is  given  some  of  this  wonderful 
experience.  A  gleam  of  light,  a  touch  of  grace 
flits  across  the  period,  and  what  is  due  to  youth 
comes  to  every  soul  that  enters  the  world  young, 
fresh,  and  impressionable.  And  so  penetrating,  so 
enduring  is  this  influence  that  some  remnant  of  it 
survives  all  the  materialism  that  grows  around  our 
thoughts  and  opinions,  as  the  years  go  by. 

It  is  asserted,  and  it  is  one  of  those  truisms  no 
one  can  successfully  dispute,  because  his  own  na- 
ture upholds  it,  that  no  man  is  really  an  atheist. 
Whatever  he  may  declare,  some  memory,  long 
since  overgrown  and  seemingly  dead,  starts  up 
with  a  soft  whisper  of  that  day  in  his  early  child- 


24  Natural  Religion 

hood  when  he  looked  with  awe  at  the  sea,  the 
storm,  or  the  sunset,  and  recognized  the  presence 
of  God.  This  direct  recognition  comes  only  to 
the  simple  mind,  whether  it  be  lodged  in  the  child 
or  in  the  octogenarian.  Whoever  can  discover  the 
hilltop  where  the  air  celestial  is  whirled  about  as 
a  circular  wind  which  never  rises  nor  descends  far, 
is  privileged  to  breathe  the  ether  which  for  the 
time  makes  him  more  than  human  :  whoever  can 
see  in  a  tree,  a  stone,  a  cloud,  not  these  mere  ob- 
jects, but  the  spirit  that  lives  in  them  and  beyond 
them,  knows  the  ecstasy  of  faith. 

Men  have  made  religions,  but  it  was  not  in  their 
power  to  either  make  or  alter  religion  :  that  is 
something  that  exists  only  between  the  believer 
and  his  Deity.  It  is  a  matter  of  feeling,  not  of 
knowledge,  and  the  sensitive  child  has  more  of  it 
than  his  worldly  parents.  He  may  not  care  for 
catechisms,  may  pick  flaws  in  his  Sunday-school 
lessons,  and  fall  out  with  his  teacher  about  Old 
Testament  history  and  New  Testament  miracles. 

These  are  small  matters,  and  modern  society  has 
the  good  sense  to  laugh  at  them.  But  the  same 
young  sceptic  who  satirically  questioned  the  possi- 
bility of  five  thousand  being  fed  by  the  five  loaves 
and  two  fishes,  will  be  thrilled  by  the  whistled 
message  the  keen  winter  air  brings  him  when  he 
dances  along  the  woodpath,  and  he  will  hold  his 


-X' 


Natural  Religion  25 

breath  with  awe  as  he  passes  some  weird  stump 
which  upHfts  skinny  arms  to  the  sky  in  posture  of 
devout  praise.  Straight  through  the  fortresses  of 
words  which  the  subtlety  of  man  has  erected 
around  creeds  the  child  dives  to  the  great  secret — 
God  is  life  ;  life  is  God.  When  the  wind  blows, 
stars  twinkle,  sap  flows,  or  plants  unfold  their  pet- 
als, he  sees  the  manifestation  of  a  supreme  power. 
He  believes  without  an  instant's  hesitancy  that 
God  sees  him  always  ;  is  everywhere,  within  him 
and  without  ;  but  this  power  is  protean,  multiform ; 
it  enwraps  him  and  inspires  him;  he  belongs  to  it, 
and  it  to  him. 

This  communion  is  broken  into  and  demoralized 
by  life  experiences,  and  especially  by  over-zealous 
instructors  to  whom  natural  religion  is  less  pure 
and  beautiful  than  that  which  has  been  stamped 
by  the  sanction  of  a  special  father  of  the  church. 
We  cavil  with  the  child  over  a  trifling  incident  in 
tTie  life  of  Joseph  or  of  Job,  and  waste  in  mere  dis- 
cussion the  divine  trust  in  the  truth  and  justice  of 
the  creative  Power  he  unconsciously  adores.  Here, 
as  everywhere,  we  think  more  of  our  own  mechan- 
ical efforts  than  of  the  child's  purity  of  heart.  Nei- 
ther evil  nor  virtue  exist  as  knowledge  within  his 
mind,  but  as  inclinations,  which  could  never  be- 
come concrete  acts  if  circumstances,  including 
tutors,  did  not  rush  eagerly    to  seek  to  enlighten 


26  Natural  Religion 


him.  But  if  virtue  involves  knowing  and  choos- 
ing, faith  has  to  do  only  with  feeling.  And  here 
the  child  is  superior  to  his  master.  In  the  daylig^it 
and  in  the  dark  glow  ever-living  reflections  of  the 
beautiful  picture  stamped  on  his  soul  in  that  indefi- 
nite past  when  it  was  part  of  the  All-Soul  and 
breathed  the  celestial  breath  of  the  upper  air. 

We  give  the  child — words.  Let  us  recollect  that 
we  can  give  him  words  only.  There  are  in  his  in- 
most heart  some  exquisite  beliefs  that  he  may 
never  be  able  to  express,  but  that  comfort  and  sus- 
tain him  more  than  we  are  comforted  by  our 
rational,  measured  creeds.  The  world  commits  no 
grosser  robbery  than  when  it  robs  the  pure,  aspir- 
ing spirit  of  a  child  of  its  strangely  simple,  yet 
wildly  imaginative,  pantheistic  belief.  It  is  the 
germ  of  the  good,  the  true,  the  beautiful,  for  him, 
and  if  uncrushed,  and  with  its  delicate  perfume 
preserved  he  carries  it  on  into  a  period  when  in- 
tellectual convictions  and  knowledge  of  his  hu- 
^manitarian  relations  obtain  their  reasonable  place 
in  his  mind,  his  life  will  be  the  brighter,  the  fuller, 
and  the  nobler,  because  of  the  sense  of  childlike 
trust  that  is  the  first  and  best  gift  to  man. 


As  an  only  child,  Daisy  was  much  in  the  company  of  her 
parents  and  a  lively  young  aunt  who  made  one  of  the  family, 
and  she  was  so  demure  a  little  mite  that  they  often  forgot 
that  she  was  present  and  spoke  of  things  before  her  which 
they  would  not  have  chosen  for  her  to  hear.  She  was  about 
seven  years  old  when  there  began  to  come  to  the  house  a 
tall,  neutral-tinted  young  man,  to  whom  her  blufif  father  took 
a  dislike,  speaking  of  him  in  privacy  to  her  mother  as  a 
"  stick,"  and  even  going  so  far  as  to  wonder  what  interest 
Marian  could  have  in  "  flirting  with  a  stick."  Daisy  heard, 
and  in  her  quiet  way  began  to  watch  the  visitor,  but  saw 
nothing  to  enlighten  her  as  to  what  her  father  could  mean 
until  one  evening  as  there  was  quite  a  company  assembled 
in  the  parlor,  her  aunt  Marian  playfully  took  up  a  maul- 
stick that  lay  on  an  easel,  and,  while  she  talked  to  her 
soi-disant  admirer,  balanced  it  on  her  finger.  A  light  of  in- 
telligence came  into  pretty  little  Daisy's  eyes,  and,  approach- 
ing the  group,  she  said  earnestly,  "  Oh,  auntie,  I  know  now 
what  papa  meant  by  your  flirting  with  a  stick;  I  didn't 
know  before!"  and  she  was  greatly  surprised  at  the  fiery 
color  which  overspread  the  young  man's  face  and  at  the 
hasty  manner  in  which  her  aunt  sent  her  off  to  bed. 


Honesty  and  Politeness 

Always  in  a  refined  community  there  are  some 
individuals  who  have  a  natural  antagonism  to 
manners.  One  child  in  a  household  of  well-bred 
brothers  and  sisters  may  feel  such  a  contempt  for 
breeding  as  to  cultivate  its  resentful  opposite — 
brusqueness.  Sincerity  has  often  an  unbending 
pride  of  its  own,  and  insists  upon  pressing  knobs 
against  the  flesh  of  those  who  love  a  cushiony  sur- 
face. 

Certain  young  persons,  feeling  vaguely  a  per- 
vading discontent  with  an  environment  too  gentle 
for  their  bold  spirits,  are  made  aware  for  the  first 
time  of  what  ails  them  when  they  open  the  pages  of 
history.  How  they  delight  in  the  rough  humor  of 
Richard  the  lion-hearted, and  how  vehemently  they 
approve  the  fearles.i  barons,  innocent  of  courtly 
graces  and  dealing  forth  bluff  words  like  blows. 
They  tolerate  Bayard  for  his  bravery,  but  think  his 
French  courtesy  a  little  overdone,  while  they  have 
no  sympathy  with  the  sacrifice  of  the  gallant  Ral- 
eigh's cloak.     Imitating  well-beloved  Robin  Hood 

28 


Honesty  and  Politeness  29 

they  indulge  in  a  rough  sort  of  protection  toward 
the  younger  ones  in  school,  and  are  happy  if  they 
can  gain  a  reputation  for  "  taking  the  part  of  the 
under  dog  in  the  fight."  The  old  Saxon  lawless- 
ness peeps  out  in  these  sturdy  young  shoots.  No 
banner  gives  such  liberty  as  truth,  and  independ- 
ent natures  gravitate  thereto  without  knowing 
how  much  their  devotion  is  owing  to  the  privilege 
of  bearing  arms  against  the  entire  world. 

Few  young  people's  heroines  have  ever  had  the 
success  of  Miss  Alcott's  "  Jo."  That  rowdy  damsel 
struck  the  warm  chord  of  sympathy  in  thousands 
of  little  hearts  rebellious  against  custom.  She  was 
one  of  the  pioneers  of  the  modern  sentiment  of 
girlish  independence,  which  has  grown  in  the  last 
decade  with  mushroom  rapidity.  The  existence  of 
so  lovable  a  rebel  and  free-thinker  sanctioned  the 
blunt  speech  which  liberty-loving  spirits  are  prone 
to  indulge.  Fastidious  mothers  are  at  a  loss  how 
to  deal  with  the  little  daughters  who  take  against 
social  usages  the  high  stand  of  honesty.  Many  a 
woman  quails  before  the  wide-open,  innocent  eyes 
that  flash  forth  this  righteous  scorn,  and  feels  her- 
self hypocritical  in  the  midst  of  her  perplexed  con- 
viction that  her  child  must  be  taught  conformity. 

Pohteness — that  exquisite  politeness  that  breaks 
no  rules,  that  carries  itself  as  if  society  was  a  tender 
infant,  to  be  soothed  and  humored — is  a  shield  for 


30  Honesty  and  Politeness 

sensitive  souls  more  invulnerable  than  the  hide  of 
Achilles.  But  those  who  need  it  most  often  oppose 
the  protection  it  offers.  They  expose  themselves 
to  hurts,  finding  consolation  in  the  idea  that  the 
persecution  is  "  for  righteousness  sake  ";  that  the 
v^orld  is  false  and  grovelling  and  they  the  cham- 
pions of  truth. 

What  mistaken  chivalry  and  false  logic  !  We 
would  have  these  youthful  scorners  of  social  law 
turn  to  Emerson's  essay  on  "  Behavior,"  and  there 
read  what  the  white-souled  prophet  of  truth,  the 
incorruptible  and  unsparing  critic  of  society,  says 
about  the  necessity  of  even  that  fine  and  delicate 
polish  which  it  might  be  supposed  so  great  a  mind 
would  have  ignored  if  it  were  possible  for  any  to 
do  so  with  impunity.  "  The  power  of  manners," 
he  admonishes,  "  is  incessant — an  element  as  un- 
concealable  as  fire.  No  man  can  resist  their  in- 
fluence. There  are  certain  manners  which  are 
learned  in  good  society,  of  that  force  that  if  a  per- 
son have  them  he  or  she  must  be  considered,  and 
is  everywhere  welcome,  though  without  beauty,  or 
wealth,  or  genius."  We  cannot  understand  this  to 
mean  that  thin  veneering  of  politeness  with  which 
minds  naturally  coarse  glaze  over  their  real  indiffer- 
ence to  the  feelings  of  others.  This  is  the  "  French 
polish  "  that  cracks  under  exposure  to  atmospheric 
changes,  not  genuine  breeding.   Our  young  enthu- 


Honesty  and  Politeness  31 

siasts  are  so  far  right  that  truth  is  the  basis  of  fine 
manners.  But  truth  should  be  at  rest,  serene,  se- 
cure in  its  own  strength.  Its  time  will  come.  Above 
all  else  the  world  wants  this  same  truth,  and  some 
day  it  will  turn  to  the  silent  one  in  the  corner  and 
beg  for  the  secret  whose  possession  is  betrayed  by 
the  luminous  brow  and  expressive  eyes.  Then  the 
triumph  is  all  with  him.  There  is  the  surprise  of 
finding  him  right,  of  seeing  him  strong,  and  after 
this  he  is  courted.  I  have  seen  a  great  statesman 
leave  his  side  of  the  table  and  come  around  to  talk 
to  a  modest  little  maiden  of  ten,  drawn  solely  by 
the  silent  charm  of  the  child's  manner. 

Society  tolerates  popinjays  in  the  same  way  that 
it  applauds  the  comic  opera.  These  fools  only 
amuse  ;  they  are  the  toys  of  the  hour  and  flung 
away  when  done  with.  But  what  it  loves  is  power, 
and  no  other  quality  can  successfully  simulate  it. 
The  one  unmistakable  evidence  of  power  is  repose. 
This  is  so  sure  that  he  who  has  that  gracious  aspect 
is  accused  of  concealing  rare  accomplishments  un- 
der a  quiet  exterior.  Some  force  there  must  be  in 
the  individual,  or  he  cannot  achieve  a  good  man- 
ner. If  he  has  no  talent  he  must  have  a  belief,  a 
great  affection;  anything  sufficient  to  lift  him  out 
of  personal  pettiness. 

Personalities  are  an  instant  admission  of  inferior- 
ity.   For  this  reason  a  child  should  be  taught  first 


32  Honesty  and  Politeness 

of  all  not  to  talk  of  himself.  Let  him  know  that  re- 
serve inspires  respect,  and  that  in  relating  family 
history  he  is  doing  the  thing  of  all  others  he  would 
least  wish  to  do — cheapening  his  position.  But  to 
put  it  so  that  a  child  can  understand,  we  should 
say  that  the  affairs  of  a  household  are  a  sacred  trust 
with  its  members,  and  that  his  own  actions  only 
concern  an  outsider  at  the  point  where  they  touch 
him.  Children  are  not  born  gossips.  They  report 
What  they  see  and  hear  of  people  only  when  en- 
couraged. They  would  far  rather  talk  of  the  cat, 
the  birds,  the  flowers,  and  the  museum,  if  left  to 
their  free  choice.  But  it  is  essential  that  they  know 
when  to  talk  and  when  to  be  silent,  and  this  is 
hardest  of  all.  The  old  rule,  "  Speak  when  spoken 
to,"  has  the  great  defect  that  it  kills  grace.  A  sup- 
pressed child  makes  a  stiff  man  or  woman. 

Much  of  the  ungainliness  of  bearing  which  con- 
stitutes a  stumbling-block  to  many  admirable  men 
and  women  is  the  result  of  an  autocratic  govern- 
ment which  constrained  them,  as  children,  to  be  pas- 
sive and  inanimate  in  the  presence  of  their  elders. 
As  a  witty  writer  observes,  "  their  animal  spirits 
were  flat-ironed  out  of  them."  One  may  emerge 
from  this  discipline  with  an  irritable  bearing  which 
gives  every  expression  an  appearance  of  insistance, 
as  if  the  person  said  to  himself:  "  I  have  a  right 
and  this  time  I  will  be  heard."     It  is  better  to  im- 


Honesty  and  Politeness  33 

press  upon  the  child  that  he  may  speak  freely 
whenever  he  has  anything  interesting  to  say  to  the 
company,  but,  if  he  finds  that  he  is  wearying  others, 
to  stop.  If  his  fact  or  fancy  has  any  value  there  is 
some  one  who  will  like  to  hear  it  some  time.  Let 
him  study  to  be  opportune,  for  that  is  the  secret  of 
tact. 

It  is  a  pity  that  the  majority  of  our  young  people 
divide  into  these  two  classes:  they  are  either  noisy 
or  stifif.  Both  are  signs  of  selfishness  ;  the  one  per- 
mitted expression,  the  other  restrained  through 
pride.  The  one  divine  power  possessed  by  mortals 
is  love.  Every  one  who  has  achieved  any  sort  of  in- 
fluence over  mankind  has  either  been  actuated  by 
some  form  of  love,  or  has  pretended  to  be.  Social 
leaders  have  this  for  the  first  principle  of  their 
creed.  They  assume  an  interest  in  you,  and  cour- 
teously put  themselves  in  the  background.  Who 
has  not  at  some  time  in  his  life  been  charmed  by 
that  delicious  look  of  interest,  that  cordial,  wel- 
coming touch  of  the  hand  which  subtly  conveyed 
the  impression  that  he  was  of  consequence  in  dis- 
criminating eyes  ?  One  such  momentary  meeting 
is  recollected  with  pleasure  throughout  years.  This 
may  be  counterfeit,  but  the  virtue  of  it  is  that  it 
appears  real. 

And  real  love — human,  brotherly  feeling — is 
what  the  world  wants.    The  fiat  is  that  if  you  have 


34  Honesty  and  Politeness 

it  not  you  must  simulate  it.  We  are  not  to  make 
our  children  deceitful.  Their  guileless  hearts  only 
need  be  encouraged  to  love.  They  have  as  a 
birthright  the  essence  of  the  most  exquisite  cour- 
tesy. What  they  need  is  to  be  trained  how  to  ex- 
press it.  Let  us  be  sure  that  we  ourselves  know 
that  which  we  essay  to  teach  them.  Some  children 
are  deliberately  trained  to  be  awkward  and  un- 
couth by  being  made  self-conscious  through  inces- 
sant admonition. 

Awkwardness  is  a  social  crime;  so  black  a  crime 
that  there  is  a  temptation  to  call  it  a  moral  enor- 
mity. If  to  please  is  a  virtue  then  smooth  motions, 
graceful  postures,  musical  tones,  are  accomplish- 
ments to  be  conscientiously  acquired.  We  are  do- 
insf  more  for  our  son  than  his  Latin  tutor  does 
when  we  teach  him  to  enter  and  leave  a  room  well, 
and  to  sit  at  ease  among  our  guests.  What  a  wealth 
of  learning  that  girl  will  need  to  compensate  for 
her  awkwardness,  if  she  cannot  open  her  lips  with- 
out startling  the  nerves  of  the  company,  or  move 
over  the  floor  wdthout  upsetting  something  in  her 
path.  If  she  had  any  appreciation  of  the  beautiful 
harmonies  under  which  Nature  conceals  her  most 
^  powerful  operations,  she  would  know  that  to  be 
abrupt  is  to  be  weak;  that  uncouthness  and  insig- 
nificance are  twins.  Let  us,  then,  teach  our  chil- 
dren smoothness  ;  how  to  join  one  movement  to 


Honesty  and  Politeness  35 

another  ;  how  to  lead  from  topic  to  topic  ;  how  to 
be  graceful,  gentle,  and  self-possessed.  Develop  in 
them  the  desire  to  please,  and  all  the  minor  social 
virtues  will  the  more  readily  follow. 


Childhood  is  the  proper  time  of  life  for  experimenting. 
Later,  we  must  apply  our  energies  to  some  one  purpose. 
Therefore,  let  us  encourage  children  to  try  to  do  new  things, 
so  that  they  may  learn  both  what  they  are  able  and  what 
they  like  best  to  do. 


The  Choice  of  a  Life  Pursuit 

An  opinion  is  gradually  gaining  ground  among 
experienced  parents  that  the  period  of  school  edu- 
cation is  too  prolonged.  Their  sons,  they  say,  leave 
college  at  about  the  age  of  twenty-two,  learned  stu- 
dents perhaps,  but  so  far  as  practical  knowledge  of 
life  is  concerned,  or  preparation  for  any  businesss, 
as  ignorant  as  children.  And  at  this  age  they  have, 
in  a  measure,  lost  their  adaptability,  so  that  the 
choice  of  a  pursuit  is  made  with  more  than  a  little 
trouble;  and  finally,  when  made,  it  involves  a  spe- 
cial course  of  preparation  which  postpones  the  pro- 
ductive period  far  into  the  future. 

It  is  certainly  far  from  my  design  to  advocate 
the  curtailing  of  education.  But  why  should  col- 
lege training,  or  any  sort  of  schooling,  lead  away 
from  the  business  of  life  ?  It  ought,  on  the  con- 
trary, to  conduct  towards  it.  Instead  of  dissipat- 
ing the  energies  of  a  boy  and  unfitting  him  for  a 
career,  a  proper  education  should  be  a  perfect 
equipment  for  some  special  pursuit. 

But  here  we  touch  the  heart  of  the  matter.  How 
can  there  be  preparation  for  something  which  is 
vague  and  indefinite  ?     It  is  impossible  to  select  at 

37 


38         The  Choice  of  a  Life  Pursuit 

random  some  occupation  for  a  child  and  bend  our 
efforts  toward  unfolding  the  special  faculties  it 
will  involve,  with  any  certainty  that  his  character, 
when  developed,  will  justify  our  choice.  In  fact,  a 
just  parent  doubts  very  much  whether  he  has  a 
right  to  impose  a  calling  upon  his  son,  who  may 
thereafter  betray  a  decided  aversion  to  and  unfit- 
ness for  it. 

The  usual  idea  has  been  to  supply  a  broad  and 
general  culture  and  postpone  specific  training  until 
later.  But  it  is  to  be  remarked  that  in  the  great 
majority  of  instances  the  successful  men  of  the 
world  have  been  those  who  in  early  years  embraced 
a  special  pursuit,  from  which  they  never  afterwards 
departed  ;  while  the  men  who  make  their  choice  of 
occupation  at  a  late  period  are  very  apt  to  be 
guided  by  circumstances,  probably  by  immediate 
necessities,  rather  than  by  their  peculiar  talents. 
They  "  drift  "  into  situations,  and  many  a  career  is 
spoiled,  many  a  life  dwarfed  and  narrowed  by  this 
haphazard  method  of  settling  into  an  occupation. 

The  undesirability  of  either  choosing  an  occupa- 
tion for  our  son,  early  in  life,  or  of  permitting  him 
to  grow  to  manhood  without  having  selected  one, 
leaves  us  but  one  course,  and  this  the  most  natural 
one  of  any;  we  ought  to  consider  it  a  plain  duty 
to  aid  him  in  the  development  of  his  own  powers, 
so  that  any  strong  taste  he  evinces  may  serve  as 


The  Choice  of  a  Life  Pursuit 


39 


the  clue  to  his  training.  The  perfunctory  way  of 
settling  a  son's  destiny  by  devoting  him  to  a  pur- 
suit his  parents  have  a  preference  for  is  not  popu- 
lar with  modern  parents,  although  still  followed  by 
some  nations.  Dickens'  two  indolent,  good-for- 
naught  characters,  Mortimer  Lightwood  and  Eu- 
gene Wrayburn,  in  accounting  for  their  failures, 
observe  to  one  another  that  the  reason  they  are  in 
their  present  box  is  because  their  lives  were  ar- 
ranged for  them.  "  My  respected  f-ather,"  remarks 
Wrayburn,  "  put  me  to  the  study  of  the  law  be- 
cause it  was  understood  that  they  wanted  a  bar- 
rister in  the  family — and  they  have  got  a  precious 
one."  Certain  parents  are  so  bent  upon  possessing 
in  the  family  talent  of  a  certain  order  that  they 
twist  every  indication  of  capacity  into  something 
that  confirms  their  wish.  This  is  more  injurious  to 
a  child  than  neglect.  If  we  cannot  aid  his  develop- 
ment, we  should  at  least  do  what  we  can  not  to 
hinder  it. 

There  are  exceptional  natures  which  show  at  an 
early  age  one  decided  inclination  which  points  un- 
mistakably to  a  particular  pursuit.  All  we  have  to 
do  in  these  cases  is  to  defer  to  our  child's  talent, 
and  put  him  in  the  way  of  developing  it.  But  or- 
dinarily, the  children  even  of  talented  parents  are 
undecided  in  their  tastes,  and  either  devote  them- 
selves to  one  thing  after  another,  and  with  equal 


40         The  Choice  of  a  Life  Pursuit 

ardor,  or  Show  listlessness  concerning  everything. 
And  the  years  pass  in  the  aimless  acquisition  of 
book-lore. 

There  is  much  to  be  said  in  favor  of  the  early 
choice  of  an  occupation  over  what  is  usually  termed 
a  complete  education.  Where  a  boy  is  reared  to 
some  special  pursuit  there  is  a  concentration  of  en- 
ergies otherwise  dissipated.  Without  burdening 
him  prematurely  with  a  sense  of  responsibility  it  is 
well  to  encourage  him  to  think  about  the  matter 
and  learn  to  know  himself  and  find  out  what  he  is 
fitted  for.  An  intelligent,  disinterested  parent  who 
studies  his  child  from  infancy  with  a  view  to  right 
training,  will  seldom  fail  to  find  signs  to  guide  him. 
And  the  boy  whose  mind  has  fixed  itself  upon  a  def- 
inite aim  has  thenceforth  an  anchor  to  stay  him 
amidst  all  the  temptations  to  indolence.  Work  for 
a  purpose  is  worth  something,  and  the  only  sort 
that  has  a  permanent  hold  upon  us. 

The  belief  so  prevalent  even  as  late  as  fifty  years 
ago,  that  it  mattered  very  little  what  sort  of  busi- 
ness a  man  gave  his  attention  to,  so  that  he  gave 
it,  has  been  displaced  at  length  by  a  more  correct 
view  of  the  decisive  nature  of  propensity.  Dr. 
Johnson's  view  was  that  a  true  genius  is  a  man  of 
large  general  powers  accidentally  determined  to  a 
particular  direction.  But  if,  as  Macaulay  observed, 
"  happiness  is  the  free  exercise  of  the  mind  in  pur- 


The  Choice  of  a  Life  Pursuit         41 

suits  congenial  to  it,"  there  is  a  great  waste  of  nerv- 
ous energy  in  the  forcible  application  of  the  mind 
to  a  business  that  contains  no  element  of  enjoy- 
ment. A  large  portion  of  life  is  spent  in  work,  and 
it  is  dooming  the  worker  to  a  vast  amount  of  at 
least  negative  misery  to  bind  him  to  what  he  is  not 
naturally  drawn  toward. 

For  this  reason  we  should  hesitate  to  urge  upon 
a  young  man  or  woman  a  career  from  motives  of 
mere  expediency;  especially  if  there  is  a  strong 
desire  present  for  some  other  pursuit.  Any  honest 
work  that  there  is  a  liking  for  should  have  the  pref- 
erence over  all  other  sorts,  even  if  they  are  more 
distinguished  or  promise  more  advantage.  For 
what  the  worker's  heart  is  in  he  will  do"  well.  And 
if  he  is  so  happily  constituted  that  he  can  make 
himself  enthusiastic  in  a  vocation  he  was  origi- 
nally disinclined  toward,  we  may  be  sure  that  the 
quality  of  enthusiasm  would  have  been  so  much 
magnified  in  something  answering  to  his  native 
bias  as  to  have  carried  him  to  a  greater  measure  of 
success. 

The  excessive  strain  endured  by  men  in  the 
competition  of  business  would  be  less  if  there  was 
not  a  long  and  steady  wear  upon  their  powers  of 
endurance  to  tell  against  them  in  a  crisis.  If  every 
morning  there  is  a  slight  struggle  to  settle  down  to 
labors  that   are  distasteful,   the  end   of   the  year 


42         The  Choice  of  a  Life  Pursuit 


would  reveal,  if  we  could  read  the  record  of  the 
mind,  a  marked  depletion  of  the  vital  forces.  It  is 
through  overcoming  difficulties  that  we  grow 
strong,  but  it  is  not  through  overcoming  instincts 
of  dislike.  Unpleasant  details  are  lightly  vaulted 
by  the  spirit  which  is  buoyed  up  by  the  sense  of  a 
great  pleasure  in  the  work  as  a  whole. 


Children  are  apt  to  classify  unfamiliar  articles  after  an  odd 
fashion.  For  instance,  a  little  boy  of  two  years  was  intro- 
duced to  a  farm  where  there  was  a  black  dog  running  about 
in  the  barn-yard  among  the  chickens,  most  of  which  were 
white.  He  looked  in  the  hens'  nests  and  took  notes,  silently 
pondering  many  things.  On  coming  into  the  house  his  at- 
tention was  drawn  to  a  black  "darning  egg"  in  his  mother's 
work-basket,  and  with  his  eyes  glowing  with  astonishment 
he  cried,  "Oh,  mamma,  is  that  a  bow-wop's  (dog's)  egg?" 


The  City  Child  in  the  Country 

Among  the  many  families  who  take  their  summer 
vacation  at  watering-places,  more  or  less  fashion- 
able and  expensive,  there  are  some  who  seek  out 
quiet  and  unfrequented  country  spots  where  they 
may  be  at  ease  and  somewhat  exclusive.  Parents 
who  wish  to  give  their  children  a  chance  to  relax 
and  recuperate  from  school  restraints  do  well  to 
take  them  into  the  "  real  country  "  where  there  are 
not  only  hills  and  meadows  and  woods,  but  cows, 
chickens,  wild  pigeons  and  squirrels,  and  all  the 
myriad  creatures  that  live  close  to  nature's  heart. 

Life  will  be  a  frolic  while  they  dwell  with  their 
humbler  kindred  and  get  on  terms  of  intimacy  with 
the  sly  creatures  that  hide  in  wood  and  stream. 
What  baby  that  can  toddle  out  to  a  sand  heap  and 
scoop  it  up  with  his  tiny  fingers  was  ever  known  to 
fret  ?  Or  what  child  teases  its  mother,  that  has 
learned  the  way  to  the  barn  and  is  allowed  to  ride 
on  the  haymow  and  to  feed  the  chickens  ?  Espe- 
cially blessed  privilege  to  city  children,  who  realize 
then,  if  never  before,  the  pleasure  of  self-reliance 
and  of  helpfulness,  and  the  charm  of  out-door  life. 

44 


City  Child  in  the  Country  45 

But  with  these  advantages  there  is  another  op- 
portunity of  some  importance,  that  is  apt  to  be  for- 
gotten. There  are  many  more  sorts  of  knowledge 
and  virtue  than  any  one  person  is  acquainted  with, 
and  yet  we  usually  exhibit  little  desire  to  cultivate 
w'hat  lies  outside  of  our  daily  experience.  A  person 
to  be  much  esteemed  must  wear  our  kind  of 
clothes  and  know  the  thing  we  have  studied. 
Otherwise  we  have  no  use  for  him.  Yet  common 
sense  ought  to  teach  us  to  seek  rather  for  useful- 
ness, the  person  who  is  unlike  ourselves. 

The  man  who  goes  to  Paris  and  lives  in  the 
midst  of  a  little  community  of  his  American  ac- 
quaintances, talking  over  at  night  the  oddities  of 
the  Frenchmen  he  has  been  casually  thrown  with 
during  the  day,  and  ending  with  the  self-gratula- 
tion  that  he  is  not  as  they,  profits  little  by  his  trip. 
He  might  as  well  have  sat  by  his  own  fireside  and 
read  Hamerton's  criticisms  upon  our  transatlantic 
cousins.  To  gain  something  he  should  have  aimed 
to  enter  into  their  lives  and  habits,  to  have  assimi- 
lated with  them  and  tried  to  penetrate  their  point 
of  view.  So  do  all  the  wise  and  curious  explorers 
to  strange  countries.  And  the  result  of  their  travel 
is  the  infusion  of  new  blood  and  vitality  into  their 
brains  ;  it  is  like  doubling  one's  personality.  Nar- 
row minds  are  always  consciously  and  intentionally 
exclusive  ;   their   fear   of   contact   with   strangers 


46  City  Child  in  the  Country 


shows  that  they  have  a  weak  hold  upon  what  they 
claim  as  their  own;  they  may  be  dispossessed. 

But  there  is  another  soft  of  exclusiveness  which 
is  not  voluntary  nor  self-conscious  ;  it  is  the  re- 
serve of  a  fine  nature  which  keeps  its  pearls  in  their 
deep  casket  until  a  connoisseur  happens  by,  and 
then  reveals  them  with  frank  confidence.  And  such 
a  nature,  not  needing  guards  because  no  one  can 
rob  him,  loves  to  find  points  of  contact  between 
himself  and  his  fellows,  and  when  with  them  enters 
into  their  feelings  and  thoughts  and  shares  their 
experiences  as  far  as  he  may,  that  he  may  be  the 
wiser.  Nor  does  he  scorn  to  share  his  own,  for  he 
feels  that  his  larger  opportunities  confer  an  obliga- 
tion upon  him  to  enlarge  the  mental  scope  and  in- 
crease the  charm  for  happiness  of  all  who  have 
been  less  privileged. 

How  speedily  a  single  grain  of  good  feeling  de- 
molishes false  social  barriers  !  There  are  enough, 
God  wot,  that  no  effort  can  demolish  and  that  must 
wait  the  slow  action  of  centuries.  This  sponta- 
neous feeling  of  an  unspoiled  child  leads  him 
straight  over  the  hedges  our  conventional  preju- 
dices erect  for  him.  And  before  stopping  that  flight 
which  is  the  outcome  of  a  kind  and  true  impulse 
we  had  better  consider  whether  even  policy  is  not 
on  his  side.  In  the  matter  suggested,  of  his  sum- 
mer vacation  in  the  country,  there  occurs  the  pos- 


City  Child  in  the  Country  47 

sibility  of  his  intercourse  with  his  unknown  coun- 
try cousins — cousins  upon  the  ground  of  our  com- 
mon humanity,  not  in  blood. 

The  farmers'  Httle  children  who  run  about  in  the 
rear  yards,  barefooted  and  ragged  perhaps,  since 
their  mothers  are  making  pies  for  boarders  instead 
of  mending  clothes,  are  looked  upon  very  often  by 
these  city  boarders  as  barbarians  who  are  to  be 
avoided  by  their  own  carefully  clad  and  more  pret- 
tily appearing  children.  But  may  it  not  be  that 
these  despised  young  people  hold  certain  treasures 
of  knowledge  and  experience  which  the  city-bred 
children  would  be  greatly  benefited  by  sharing  ? 
Who  know  better  than  they,  the  haunts  of  squirrel 
and  wild  fowl,  the  ways  of  insects,  and  the  wiles  of 
the  wary  fish  ?  Who  can  discriminate  so  readily 
between  the  poisonous  plant  and  the  harmless  wild 
flower,  or  lead  the  way  to  the  prettiest  and  most 
secret  haunts  in  the  woods  ?  And  more  than  this 
they  can  give  lessons  in  endurance,  simplicity,  and 
enterprise;  their  harder  lives  have  taught  them  self- 
dependence  and  resource,  and  those  little  brown 
hands  can  row  a  boat  over  the  tossing  waves  of 
the  bay,  and  those  bare  feet  find  a  safe  route 
through  prickly  pine  and  jagged  stones,  without 
fear  or  hesitancy. 

These  are  things  worth  knowing  how  to  do,  and 
it  is  worth  while  for  our  book-learned  boys  and 


48  City  Child  in  the  Country 

girls  to  toss  on  old  straw  hats  and  common  shoes 
— if  they  must  wear  shoes — and  follow  country 
John  and  Mary  over  the  farm  and  into  the  pine 
groves,  listening  with  attention  to  what  they  have 
to  tell  about  the  strange,  new  things  which  are 
every-day  matters  to  them.  These  are  object-les- 
sons, the  value  of  which  we  cannot  calculate,  al- 
though we  can  greatly  increase  it  by  talking  over 
with  the  children  their  interesting  experiences,  ex- 
amining the  treasures  they  will  be  sure  to  bring  in, 
and  giving,  in  a  few  happy  words,  a  scientific  clas- 
sification to  their  miscellaneous  collection.  The 
chances  are  that  in  a  short  time  they  will  have  gone 
beyond  us,  and  know  more  than  we  do,  unless  we 
make  an  effort  to  keep  ahead.  But  while  we  are 
profiting  by  the  kindness  of  our  little  country 
friends,  let  us  not  forget  that  we  owe  them  some- 
thing in  return.  Airs  of  superiority,  ill  at  any  time, 
are  most  ungrateful  here.  As  they  frankly  take  us 
into  their  lives,  let  us  as  frankly  reciprocate.  What 
can  we  do  for  them  ? 

To  the  farmers'  children  who  receive  for  the  first 
time  a  family  from  the  city,  their  guests  are  objects 
of  curiosity  and  a  little  awe.  They  shyly  hang 
about  watching  their  coming  and  going  and  gazing 
at  their  pretty  clothes  and  paraphernalia,  waiting 
meanwhile  for  that  significant  word  or  look  which 
shall  give  the  indelible  stamp  to  their  rank,  and 


City  Child  in  the  Country  49 

either  confirm  liking  or  inspire  dislike.  They  are 
conscious  of  that  indefinable  atmosphere  city-bred 
people  carry  with  them,  and  with  true  American 
respect  for  knowledge  are  quite  ready  to  admire 
and  imitate  their  guests  wherever  they  shall  show 
themselves  superior. 

No  one  appreciates  a  polished  manner  and  gen- 
tle bearing  more  than  the  rustic  child,  but  his  per- 
ception is  keen  as  Ithuriel's  spear  to  detect  the 
true  from  the  false,  and  patronage  is  an  intolerable 
affront.  He  craves  the  favor  and  friendship  of  cul- 
tivated minds,  but  cannot  buy  it  at  the  sacrifice  of 
his  sturdy  self-respect.  Neither  will  he  esteem  the 
person  who  is  so  unwise  as  to  relax  from  his  nat- 
ural dignity  into  rude  joviality  and  condescend- 
ing fellowship.  Many  people  make  this  mistake. 
This  is  cheating  our  country  friends  out  of  the  ad- 
vantages they  have  a  right  to  expect  from  inter- 
course with  us,  and  showing  them  the  cheap  glitter 
of  pinchbeck  instead  of  the  jewel's  lustre  of  good- 
breeding.  That  is  what  they  want — the  inspiration 
of  our  broader  knowledge  and  the  example  of  our 
more  cultivated  speech  and  manner;  not  given  in 
the  pedagogical  spirit,  but  as  a  fair  exchange  for 
their  own  homely  but  as  valuable  lore. 

But  alas  !  a  good  heart  cannot  be  bought  at  the 
outfitters'  shop  along  with  lawn-tennis  shirts  and 
shoes,  and  to  the  traveller  who  has  that  already 


5©  City  Child  in  the  Country 

these  suggestions  will  convey  nothing  new.  Yet  it 
will  be  well  to  impress  upon  our  children  that  while 
they  go  into  the  country  to  "  rough  it  "  for  awhile, 
they  are  not  to  become  "  roughs  "  ;  that  they  are 
not  to  lay  aside  their  good  manners,  nor  to  fall  into 
slipshod  habits  that  will  dishonor  their  up-bring- 
ing quite  as  much  in  the  eyes  of  their  country  crit- 
ics as  in  those  of  their  drawing-room  friends. 

We  should  try  to  teach  them  that  equality  and 
brotherhood  do  not  consist  in  laying  aside  dififer- 
ences,  but  in  forgetting  that  they  exist.  For  in  the 
natural  and  acquired  dififerences  between  persons 
He  great  opportunities  of  mutual  advantage.  How 
delightful  human  intercourse  would  become  if  each 
one,  without  losing  hold  of  the  light  and  knowledge 
peculiar  to  his  own  experience,  did  full  justice  to 
the  light  and  knowledge  of  others  !  We  can  begin 
this  with  our  children  by  encouraging  them  in 
sympathy,  consideration,  and  simplicity  in  their 
treatment  of  all  their  chance  companions. 


The  unselfish  parent  is  rarely  cursed  with  hard-hearted 
children,  and  in  a  household  where  love  presides  there  will 
be  thoughtfulness  for  the  poor.  A  happy  child  is  usually 
full  of  pity  and  solicitude  for  his  wretched  brothers  of  the 
street,  and  with  a  little  encouragement  he  readily  forms  a 
habit  of  setting  apart  some  of  his  provision  for  them.  Alas  ! 
that  we  should  call  such  kindness  charity;  in  a  future  age 
it  will  be  a  necessity  of  our  peace  and  comfort  to  have  con- 
tributed toward  the  welfare  of  those  whose  moral  right  to 
the  happiness  we  enjoy  is  not  less  than  our  own.  A  true- 
hearted  child  feels  this;  he  is  not  naturally  a  monopolist, 
and  until  his  feelings  become  blunted  he  thinks  it  only  just 
that  he  should  aid  in  making  happiness  for  others.  But 
while  we  encourage  generosity,  it  will  be  well  to  refrain  from 
directing  it.  Free  will  must  lie  at  the  basis  of  all  worthy 
effort. 


Happiness  and  Duty 

It  will  help  us  very  much  in  the  moral  culture  of 
our  children  to  analyze  in  ourselves  the  reasons  for 
our  own  choice  of  conduct.  Probably  it  will  be 
found  upon  honest  scrutiny,  that  we  are  in  general 
led  to  do  things  because  it  was  advisable,  expe- 
dient to  do  them,  because  by  doing  them  more  en- 
joyment would  come  to  us  in  the  long  run  than  if 
we  did  something  else.  The  first  impelling  motive 
to  any  act  is  pleasure;  there  never  could  have  been 
any  growth  if  this  were  not  so.  Afterwards  it  may 
be  made  habitual  from  various  reasons  ;  duty,  be- 
neficence, profit  are  all  of  avail,  but  they  are  rather 
the  chains  that  bind  us  to  certain  courses  than  the 
flowery  fragrance  that  attracted  us  toward  them. 

Many  habits  have  become  fixed  in  us  by  the  time 
we  are  grown  and  we  forget  how  we  were  led  to  ac- 
quire them.  But  upon  looking  back  it  certainly  will 
appear  that  those  habits  that  have  adhered  to  us 
were  associated  in  the  beginning  with  some  sort  of 
pleasure,  either  inherent  in  the  act  itself  or  coming 
as  a  reward  for  performing  it.  Whatever  we  were 
made  to  do,  with  pain  and  discomfort  to  ourselves, 
is  obnoxious  to  us  in  our  maturer  years,  and  when 

52 


Happiness  and  Duty  53 

we  become  our  own  law-givers  we  abandon  all 
such  ways  and  choose  others  more  congenial  and 
that  lead  to  more  pleasing  results. 

If  this  has  been  the  course  of  our  development 
we  may  expect  it  to  be  the  same  with  our  children. 
From  all  our  precepts  and  teaching  an  instinctive 
selection  will  be  made  of  the  most  agreeable,  and 
these  will  have  a  thousandfold  more  influence  and 
weight  than  all  the  rest.  It  is,  as  some  one  ob- 
serves, easy  as  down-hill  walking  to  persuade  peo- 
ple to  do  what  they  like  to  do.  But  why  do  they 
like  certain  things  more  than  others,  except  be- 
cause the  first  performance  of  them  was  in  some 
way  made  agreeable  ? 

Says  Professor  James:  "  In  the  acquisition  of  a 
new  habit,  we  must  take  care  to  launch  ourselves 
with  as  strong  an  initiative  as  possible;"  and  what  is 
stronger  than  enjoyment  ?  Here  we  have  the  great 
secret  of  good  government  :  make  the  first  per- 
formance of  every  act  which  it  is  desirable  to  es- 
tablish as  a  habit  in  the  child's  life,  agreeable  to 
him.  Our  authority  is  given  us  that  we  may  impel 
the  child  while  he  is  yet  flexible  and  docile,  toward 
the  course  of  conduct  that  will  be  beneficial  in  his 
maturity,  and  we  ought  to  bend  most  of  our  en- 
ergy toward  working  for  what  will  be  permanent 
with  him.  Many  matters  that  we  are  most  zealous 
about  are  affairs  of  the  moment,  affecting  him  only 


54  Happiness  and  Duty 

for  the  hour,  and  ourselves  more  than  him.  We 
waste  a  great  deal  of  strength  in  training  him  in 
knowledge  that  he  will  throw  off  the  instant  he  is 
his  own  master.  And  yet  these  early  years  that  are 
so  precious  are  also  so  few  that  they  scarcely  suffice 
for  laying  the  basis  for  his  true  and  essential  after- 
education. 

To  prevent  evil  acts  the  attention  must  be  di- 
rected toward  right  acts.  The  authority  that  con- 
tents itself  with  being  merely  preventive  is  practi- 
cally useless.  If  life  is  at  one  period  made  a  matter 
of  negation  it  will  be  riotously  positive  when  the 
individual  is  freed  from  restraint.  The  boy  and  girl 
who  have  been  brought  up  on  a  diet  of  "don't"  will 
have  a  fierce  appetite  for  their  own  way  merely  be- 
cause their  fund  of  energy  has  been  suppressed  and 
is  bound  to  exert  itself  when  it  becomes  possible. 
And  this  self-will,  for  being  vehement,  will  be  the 
less  judicious.  But  if  from  infancy  there  has  been 
permitted  a  proper  play  of  energy  and  excellent 
qualities  have  been  developed  through  the  free 
and  joyous  performance  of  right  acts,  the  character 
will  have  attained  an  equipoise  that  makes  it  able 
easily  to  resist  the  temptation  to  every  sort  of  ex- 
cess. Duty  that  has  never  been  made  disagreeable 
IS  attractive  enough  to  rival  dissipations. 

But  some  specific  application  of  a  general  rule  is 
usually  necessary  to  make  its  value  apparent.  Take, 


Happiness  and  Duty  ^^ 

then,  the  instance  of  hospitality;  and  let  us  con- 
sider how  best  to  imbue  our  children  with  a  feeling 
which  is  not  only  necessary  to  harmony  in  our 
homes  while  they  are  little,  but  to  their  social  wel- 
fare throughout  their  lives.  Both  for  their  sakes 
and  our  own  we  wish  them  to  be  polite  toward  our 
guests,  to  be  able  to  make  themselves  agreeable 
and  even  entertaining,  for  nothing  is  more  delight- 
ful than  a  little  child  playing  gracefully  the  part  of 
host  or  hostess.  It  is  hardly  to  be  expected  that 
before  they  have  conceived  any  idea  of  the  obliga- 
tion resting  upon  them  they  will  heartily  enter  into 
the  duty  of  hospitality.  And  to  enforce  this  upon 
them  in  the  beginning  as  a  duty,  is  to  arouse  a  dis- 
like for  it.  A  certain  gentleman,  whose  wife  was  no- 
tably hospitable,  gave  her,  during  their  wedded 
lives,  extreme  pain  by  his  churlishness  toward 
guests.  He  was  never  able  to  overcome  his  dislike 
of  company  through  an  ineffaceable  impression 
made  in  his  childhood  by  the  horde  of  hungry 
ministers  who  were  wont  to  troop  to  his  father's 
table  and  usurp  the  children's  places  and  share  of 
good  things.  His  politeness  always  bore  a  tinge 
of  reminiscent  distrust. 

We  must  feel  our  way  daintily  to  a  child's  under- 
standing and  not  shock  him  at  the  first  approach. 
A  situation  must  be  brought  down  to  his  level  be- 
fore he  can  enter  into  it.    What  joy  it  is  to  a  little 


56  Happiness  and  Duty 

creature  to  live  at  the  first  in  a  little  world;  to  have 
scenes  presented  to  him  in  miniature  and  learn 
ethics  throug"h  his  relations  with  other  creatures 
that  are  little  like  himself.  We  have  learned  our 
duties  toward  men  and  women  in  just  such  ways 
as  these,  and  the  virtues  and  graces  we  possess 
were  gained  through  the  exercise  of  very  trivial  im- 
pulses. 

If  we  are  graciously  hospitable  it  is  because  we 
have  come  to  associate  pleasure  to  ourselves  with 
hospitality.  Why  not  direct  the  development  of  our 
children  throagh  these  natural  channels  ?  They 
like  to  have  their  playmates  come  to  their  houses, 
and  in  the  education  of  this  impulse  lies  our  great 
opportunity  for  training  them  in  politeness,  for- 
bearance, generosity,  and  all  the  social  virtues. 
They  will  easily  carry  into  their  intercourse  with 
older  persons  the  habits  they  have  acquired  natu- 
rally and  with  pleasure.  But  it  is  the  height  of  tyr- 
anny to  expect  a  child  to  be  felicitous  in  his  treat- 
ment of  our  guests  if  he  has  not  had  the  happiness 
of  entertaining  company  of  his  own.  If  he  is  not 
pleased  his  politeness  will  soon  break  down,  for  a 
child's  manners  always  show  the  condition  of  his 
heart  beneath  the  varnish  of  breeding. 


Women  who  are  lacking  in  self-control  are  given  to  com- 
plaining to  their  children  about  their  troubles.  They  make 
confidants  of  them  and  introduce  them  prematurely  to  a 
realm  of  care  and  perplexity.  A  child  is  so  sympathetic 
and  impressible  that  he  offers  a  tempting  field  for  the  ex- 
ploiting of  little  miseries.  But  he  does  not  come  through 
the  experience  unhurt.  The  delicate  sensibilities  of  children 
are  like  the  tender  and  exquisite  arbutus,  which  gives  forth 
the  sweetest  fragrance  when  it  is  being  crushed  to  death. 
We  recall  an  instance  where  a  weak  mother,  always  in  pe- 
cuniary difficulties  through  her  extravagance,  formed  the 
habit  of  disburdening  herself  to  her  little  son,  a  sedate,  ear- 
nest lad  of  ten.  He  was  so  deeply  affected  by  the  knowledge 
of  her  trouble  that  it  preyed  upon  him  constantly,  and  his 
great  dream  was  to  do  something  to  relieve  his  mother 
from  her  debts.  His  whole  early  life  was  clouded  and  made 
unhappy  by  this  indiscreet  demand  upon  his  sympathies. 


The  Dear  World  of  Fancy 

Modern  life  is  the  life  of  the  mind  and  senses; 
it  demands  tangible  facts,  things  it  can  handle  and 
put  to  a  definite  use.  Once  in  a  while  some  back- 
slider from  the  utilitarian  philosophy  puts  forth  a 
weak  plea  for  more  poetry,  more  leisure,  more  of 
that  sheen  of  the  imagination  which  used  to  light 
up  the  dark  places  in  our  path  before  our  garish 
electric  burners  made  the  moon  obsolete.  It  may 
be  that  this  elderly  renegade,  sitting  some  evening 
with  his  slippered  feet  on  the  fender  and  gazing  at 
his  bright  coal  fire,  feels  a  stir  of  those  torpid 
nerves  which  used  to  thrill  sweetly  to  the  touch  of 
fancies  now  quite  forgotten.  And  the  fiurry  and 
fume  of  this  closing  nineteenth  century  seem  to 
him  a  narrowing  process,  a  "  closing  in  "  of  human 
nature  away  from  beauty  and  grace  and  imagina- 
tion, and  a  bartering  of  the  soul's  freedom  for  the 
security  of  co-operative  existence.  Yet,  where  is 
there  any  room,  where  any  time,  for  those  jaunts 
into  cloudland  in  which  Old  Leisure  used  to  de- 
light ?  Balloons  and  fiying-machines  crowd  the 
thoroughfare  to  the  stars,  and  a  logical  explana- 
tion of  all  the  charming  mysteries  that  once  held 

58 


The  Dear  World  of  Fancy  59 

simpler  minds  captive,  now  gives  vigor  to  the  scorn 
of  our  more  enlightened  understandings. 

But  realism  has  no  advocates  among  the  chil- 
dren. As  they  are  compelled  to  drop,  one  by  one, 
the  pretty  illusions  and  fancies  of  infancy,  they  feel 
that  they  are  making  an  enforced  journey  away 
from  a  pleasant  land  warm  with  sunlight,  sweet 
with  flowers,  into  some  bleak  region  where  every- 
thing is  cold,  formal,  and  ugly.  "  Mamma,"  says 
a  coaxing  little  voice,  "  there  are  fairies,  aren't 
there  ? "  What  wistfulness  and  pathos  in  the 
tone  !  Perchance  the  little  one  espies,  away  in  the 
distance,  an  arid  tract  toward  which  his  reluctant 
steps  are  tending,  where  bricks  and  mortar  take 
the  place  of  mossy  rocks  and  fern-covered  hollows, 
and  the  once  silvery  voices  of  his  airy  playfellows 
have  shrunk  altogether  out  of  hearing  and  their 
lovely  forms  out  of  sight.  Dear  world  of  fancy  ! 
There  the  child,  with  his  pure  heart  and  simple 
ideas,  is  at  home;  he  is  king  amongst  the  elves  and 
life  is  a  holiday  of  mirth  and  frolic. 

But  "  the  old  order  changeth,  giving  place  to 
new."  The  fairies  with  their  garments  woven  of 
moonbeams,  their  dances  on  midsummer  eve,  their 
knightly  tournaments  and  magic  wands,  have 
given  way  to  the  practical  Brownie  who  travels,  in 
approved  tourist  style,  with  knapsack  and  wallet 
and  a  critical  air.     He  scorns  t'he  woods  and  the 


6o  The  Dear  World  of  Fancy 

untrodden  places  barren  of  a  network  of  railway, 
and  visits  only  cities  of  wealth  and  modern  conven- 
iences. Our  children,  bereaved  of  their  fairies 
and  giants,  have  adopted  the  Brownies,  en  masse. 

The  humor  of  Palmer  Cox's  brilliant  creation 
chimes  in  precisely  with  the  tendency  of  the  Amer- 
ican mind.  There  is  something  clear-cut,  satisfy- 
ing, conclusive.  The  child  mind  seizes  it  with  avid- 
ity and  goes  into  fits  of  enjoyment  over  the  recital 
of  impish  wit.  Yet,  it  is  a  question  whether  this 
materialization  of  youth's  cobweb  fancies  is  wholly 
gratifying.  The  great  advantage  of  poetry  and  ro- 
mance is  that  it  takes  us  out  of  familiar  and  monot- 
onous surroundings  and  rests  and  refreshes  by 
suggesting  something  beyond  the  reach  of  our  ex- 
perience. Children  especially  need  this  variety,  for 
there  is  a  riotous  element  in  them  that  rushes  away 
from  the  dry  details  of  actual  life  to  claim  kinship 
with  that  unseen  presence  that  manifests  itself  to 
them  as  positively  as  heat  and  cold,  houses  and 
money  manifest  themselves  to  our  minds. 

There  is  no  fear  but  the  coming  generation  will 
be  practical  enough.  Why  force  them  to  it  pre- 
maturely ?  By  a  curious  contradiction  a  nation 
wdiich  prides  itself  upon  its  common  sense  laments 
the  absence  of  poets.  It  is  not  that  material  for  an 
epic  is  lacking,  but  that  the  true  poetic  spirit  has 
been  almost  brow-beaten  out  of  existence.    Our  as- 


The  Dear  World  of  Funcy  6i 

siduous  training  of  little  children,  our  substitution 
of  formal  plays,  with  "  a  moral  in  them,"  has  un- 
doubtedly done  much  to  crush  spontaneity.  Ex- 
cellent as  the  kindergarten  methods  are,  some  in- 
terpreters of  the  wise  and  kind  Froebel  go  too  far 
in  their  efforts  to  direct  the  children's  fancies.  The 
mutual  confidence  between  a  sympathetic  young 
teacher  and  her  affectionate  pupils  is  beautiful  to 
see,  but  let  her  not  suppose  that  she,  or  any  other 
creature,  can  completely  enter  into  that  sanctuary 
of  the  child's  soul  where  fancy  dwells.  He  should 
have  room  for  those  gauzy  wings  to  flutter  about 
and  soar  off  alone,  not  to  be  followed  by  his  most 
intimate  friend. 

There  are  certain  old  plays,  certain  old  songs 
which  are  traditionary  among  the  children.  How 
they  are  preserved  from  one  generation  to  another 
it  would  be  ha^d  to  tell,  for  we  never  find  a  grown 
person  teaching  them.  But  most  of  us  can  look 
back  to  "  days  of  yore  "  when  we  wore  hoods  and 
"  tippets  "  and  little  shawls,  and  went  out  in  front 
of  our  houses  at  sundown  to  meet  our  comrades 
and  join  hands  in  a  ring,  and  murmur  shyly,  half 
afraid  lest  some  profane  listener  should  penetrate 
our  thoughts,  old  melodies  about  "  London 
Bridge  "  and  "  Thus  the  farmer,"  and  others.  And 
there  was  a  certain  charm  in  the  secrecy  and  the 
aloofness  from  the  grown-up  world.     A  natural 


62  The  Dear  World  of  Fancy 

child  is  very  shy,  and  when  he  is  not  shy  be  sure  he 
has  lost  the  grace  of  a  rich  imagination.  It  is  a  de- 
plorable loss  for  which  no  material  advantage  in 
after  life  can  compensate. 

The  careful  educators  who  are  cutting  down  the 
classics  to  fit  the  youthful  understanding  should 
recollect  to  leave  something  for  them  to  reach  for- 
ward to.  That  \/hich  is  a  little  beyond  us  is  a  stim- 
ulant and  an  inspiration.  Probably  the  bookish 
youngsters  who  read  Shakespeare  and  Spenser  be- 
fore they  were  a  dozen  years  old  comprehended 
only  a  moiety  of  what  their  eyes  rested  upon,  yet 
because  the  true  and  the  beautiful  is  always  simple, 
the  atmosphere  even  of  pre-eminent  genius  was 
not  so  rarified  to  them  but  they  could  delight  in  it 
and  breathe  it  over  again,  years  after,  in  memories 
that  were  sweet  and  precious.  And  so,  it  seems 
good  that  science  and  mathematics  should  not 
drive  away  romance  from  the  lives  of  the  young. 
Laboulaye  and  the  "  Arabian  Nights  "  have  been 
the  solace  of  many  wounded  little  hearts,  and  the 
giants  and  fairies  that  people  the  nurseries  at  nigfht 
when  grown-folks  are  out  of  the  way,  have,  per- 
chance, a  more  soothing  influence  than  all  the  di- 
dactical passages  in  the  '*  children's  corner  "  of  cur- 
rent literature. 


"Variety  is  the  spice  of  life"  to  grown  people,  but  it  is 
sugar  and  honey  to  children.  They  feel  dulness  and  monot- 
ony more  than  their  elders  because  they  are  far  more  de- 
pendent upon  what  is  objective.  Movement  is  necessary  to 
them,  a  stir  and  excitement  grateful.  A  certain  little  boy 
always  danced  when  he  heard  eggs  beaten  or  the  chopping- 
knife  in  operation,  liking  the  rhythm  of  sound  which  broke 
into  the  quietude  of  the  house.  Children  are  fond  of  seeing 
something  going  on  and  would  rather  open  the  door  to  a 
tramp  than  to  have  no  one  come  up  the  steps.  "  Oh,  if 
something  would  only  happen!  "  prayed  a  small  maiden  suf- 
fering from  a  real  case  of  severe  emiui  which  would  have 
been  recognized  in  her  mother.  Children  need  recreation 
because  while  their  bodies  are  growing  their  nervous  system 
is  tender  and  excitable.  If  denied  amusement  they  some- 
times have  a  touch  of  genuine  hysteria,  the  result  of  morbid 
blood. 


Holly  and  Mistletoe 

Holiday  keeping  is  one  of  the  excellent  cus- 
toms that  we  ought  never  to  let  pass  away  from 
us.  The  times  are  never  bad  enough  to  justify  us 
in  starving  our  natural  instinct  for  enjoyment. 
When  living  becomes  wholly  a  matter  of  routine 
we  may  be  sure  that  some  of  our  nerves  are  dead, 
for  indifiference  is  the  mind's  way  of  putting  on 
mourning.  It  is  not  indispensable  to  holiday  keep- 
ing that  we  be  lavish  of  money  ;  the  great  charm  is 
in  making  it  distinctive,  in  having  the  thing  on 
that  day  that  belongs  to  it  alone.  There  is  a  felicity 
in  the  Christmas  tree,  the  Fourth-of-July  fireworks, 
the  picnic  on  May-day.  The  well-balanced  mind 
loves  rhythm  and  hails  the  recurrence  of  familiar 
pleasures. 

It  is  a  cruel  perversion  of  human  rights  that 
there  should  be  a  monopoly  at  any  time  upon 
merrymaking;  festivals  have  their  own  laws,  and 
should  level  social  barriers.  In  the  South  the  old 
negro  who  cannot  buy  his  Christmas  turkey  bor- 
rows  one   from   a   neighbor's   full   barnyard   and 

"  brasses  de  Lord  "  in  all  simplicity.  As  our  morals 

64 


Holly  and  Mistletoe  65 

improve,  our  thankfulness  diminishes.  It  may  be 
right  that  we  should  endure  misery,  but  some  one 
has  done  wrong  when  we  have  it  to  endure. 

And  some  one  has  done  very  wrong  when  chil- 
dren are  miserable,  even  in  the  negative  form  of 
not  being  happy.  It  takes  little  to  make  any  child 
happy,  if  we  but  understand  that,  while  the  young 
creature  seems  to  be  all  body,  he  is  in  reality  nearly 
all  mind.  He  can  be  made  happy  for  a  whole  year 
merely  in  the  anticipation  of  a  single  day.  Is  not 
that  a  cheap  purchase  of  bliss  ?  But  it  is  ex- 
acted of  us  that  we,  the  lawmakers  and  festival 
makers,  be  perfectly  honest  with  him  ;  that  we 
promise  nothing  that  we  cannot  perform,  and  then 
that  we  perform  what  we  have  promised,  though  it 
should  draw  forked  lightning  upon  our  heads. 

There  is  no  great  risk,  unless  common  sense  is 
lacking.  What  is  any  festival  to  a  child  ?  It  is 
what  he  remembers  it  to  have  been  ;  his  delighted 
expectations  reflect  past  pleasures.  Were  his 
Christmas  always  only  a  green  wreath  on  the  wall 
of  his  hut  and  a  gilt  horn  of  sugar-plums  in  his 
stocking,  these  poor  things  were  enough  to  set  the 
day  apart  and  furnish  material  for  many  day- 
dreams. But  it  is  wretchedness  unspeakable  to  a 
child  to  have  had  a  happy  holiday  one  year  and  be 
bereft  of  it  the  next  year,  or  even  to  be  uncertain 
about  its  recurrence.    Uncertainty  is  to  the  youth- 


66  Holly  and  Mistletoe 

ful  mind  anguish,  while  a  sure  and  definite  enjoy- 
ment, however  small,  is  material  from  which  hope 
and  faith  construct  the  fabric  of  happiness. 

If  I  were  asked  to  describe  the  one  feature  of 
Christmas  which  seemed  the  distinguishing  mark 
of  the  day,  I  should  unhesitatingly  say,  on  looking 
back  through  the  vista  of  years  upon  a  happy  child- 
hood, that  it  was  evergreens.  Well  do  I  remember 
the  pilgrimage  to  the  market,  the  bringing  home  a 
great  basket  of  trailing  "  crowfoot,"  glowing  holly, 
and  delicate  mistletoe,  and  the  joyous  embellishing 
of  pictures,  mantels,  and  door-frames  until  the 
house  looked  like  a  miniature  forest.  Then  the 
tree  !  Ah,  do  not  think,  when  you  resolve  to  dis- 
pense for  the  first  time  with  this  troublesome  ap- 
pendage, that  you  are  only  asking  your  children  to 
give  up  a  tree.  You  are  asking  them  to  relinquish 
the  very  spirit  of  Christmas,  the  romance,  the 
poetry,  the  embodiment  of  all  their  youthful  senti- 
ment. This  is  to  say — if  they  have  come  to  asso- 
ciate a  tree  with  Christmas.  It  would  be  the  same 
if  it  were  a  stocking,  a  plum-cake,  a  cornucopia. 
Question  any  child  who  has  been  so  blessed  as  to 
have  had  the  experience,  and  you  will  find  that 
some  one  thing  is  predominant  with  him  in  the 
making  of  the  holiday.  And  this  one  association 
it  is  his  inalienable  right  to  preserve. 

We   trample   relentlessly   on    a   child's   native 


Holly  and  Mistletoe  dj 

sources  of  happiness  when  we  take  from  him  his 
dear  associations.  There  is  no  substitute,  because 
happiness  is  wrought  not  from  material  things,  but 
of  feeHngs.  This  being  so,  perhaps  the  best  thing 
we  can  do  for  our  children  upon  holidays  is  to  give 
them  ourselves  ;  the  best  part  of  ourselves,  our 
sympathy,  our  high  spirits,  our  generous,  enthusias- 
tic affection.  The  parent  who  creates  this  joyous 
atmosphere  in  his  home,  and  contributes  from  his 
own  nature  the  elements  of  "  a  good  time,"  need 
fear  no  reverses  of  fortune  nor  deprivation.  He  is 
the  holiday  incarnate,  and  his  company  outrivals 
the  attractions  of  Alexander's  feast,  in  the  opinion 
of  his  youthful  comrades. 

The  day  will  come  when  our  little  ones,  grown 
to  manhood  and  womanhood,  and  saddened  per- 
haps by  inroads  death  has  made  in  the  home  circle, 
will  look  back  with  feelings  of  purest  pleasure  to 
these  happy  family  gatherings  when  great  and 
small  frolicked  in  company,  and  the  bond  of  affec- 
tion was  drawn  warm  and  close  about  hearts  time 
has  withered  and  separated.  Some  wise  man  once 
advised  :  "  Lay  up  in  youth  a  store  of  pleasant 
memories."  Indeed,  there  is  no  better  safeguard 
against  loneliness  and  despondency  than  a  little 
stock  of  fair,  sweet  pictures  to  look  upon,  and 
those  of  us  who  are  able  at  will  to  conjure  up 
pleasant  and  cheerful  bygone  scenes  are  shielded, 


68  Holly  and  Mistletoe 

as  by  a  guardian  angel,  from  many  of  the  disap- 
pointments and  griefs  of  life. 

The  duty  of  making  children  happy  is  one  not  al- 
ways recognized.  Often  we  confuse  it  with  the 
idea  of  indulgence  and  laxity  of  government;  but 
v.hile  liberty  is  delightful,  license  or  defiance  of  law 
and  order  brings  its  own  punishment.  We  need 
not  remove  wholesome  and  proper  restraint  in 
order  to  give  a  child  the  full  flavor  of  enjoyment, 
for  this  is  to  encourage  the  false  notion  that  enjoy- 
ment is  more  or  less  incompatible  with  good  con- 
duct. Neither  need  we,  on  the  other  hand,  precede 
every  holiday  with  a  lecture,  as  an  ultra-conscien- 
tious governess  who  had  the  charge  of  my  younger 
days  used  to  do.  There  is  a  happy  medium,  and  it 
may  well  be  expressed  in  the  simple  rule:  Make  the 
enjoyment  of  the  child  dependent  upon  the  enjoy- 
ment of  others.  Let  him  take  part  in  the  prepara- 
tions as  well  as  in  the  results. 

There  is  almost  always  a  graceful  response  upon 
the  part  of  a  child  when  appeal  is  made  to  him  to 
help  in  the  getting  ready  for  company,  or  for  little 
feasts  in  honor  of  some  one  he  cares  for.  And  it  is 
not  solely  because  the  bustle  is  pleasant,  and  the 
sight  of  dainties  for  the  table  congenial  ;  no.  the 
feeling  that  he  has  the  power  of  contributing  to  the 
hnnpiness  of  others  brings  real  deH^ht  to  the  little 
heart  which  is  sometimes  weighted  down  with  a 


Holly  and  Mistletoe  69 

sense  of  insignificance,  and  of  having  no  part  in 
the  affairs  of  the  world;  a  fancy  that  would  be 
touching  if  it  were  understood. 

"  In  the  heart  of  winter's  snow,  Christmas  fires 
glow."  Out  of  the  past  this  phrase  from  an  almost 
forgotten  poem  comes  back  to  me,  and  brings  with 
it  a  gleam  of  the  cheerful  anticipation  with  which, 
as  a  little  child,  I  used  to  look  forward  to  the  great 
day  of  the  year.  Children  who  have  not  been  too 
early  initiated  in  those  pleasures  that  belong  by 
right  to  mature  life,  and  whose  natures  have  been 
kept  fresh  and  simple,  enjoy  the  holidays  that  are 
appropriate  to  them  with  a  zest  and  heartiness  of 
which  the  poor  little  sated  palates  of  infant  world- 
lings are  incapable. 

If  for  no  other  reason  than  to  secure  them  the 
greatest  amount  of  happiness  at  those  times  when 
they  naturally  expect  to  be  made  particularly 
happy,  we  ought  to  accustom  our  children  to  be 
content  ordinarily  with  simple  pleasures.  How 
can  the  child  who  goes  to  parties  frequently,  to 
whom  the  theatre  is  a  familiar  dissipation,  an  1  who 
has  dainties  and  toys  whenever  he  calls  for  Lhem, 
experience  any  of  the  ecstasy  over  Christmas  which 
the  unsophisticated  little  one  feels  who  tastes 
candy  and  plum  pudding  only  as  a  rare  treat,  and 
to  whom  the  pantomime  is  an  unexplored  world  of 
wonders  ? 


JO  Holly  and  Mistletoe 

Anticipation  constitutes  a  large  part  of  the  enjoy- 
ment of  youth,  and  when  there  is  a  prospect  of 
pleasure  which  may  certainly  be  depended  upon, 
and  that  is  not  contingent  upon  the  good-will  or 
the  caprices  of  others,  children  sip  daily  and  hourly 
for  a  long  time  beforehand  the  delights  of  posses- 
sion. This  habit  of  childhood  of  dwelling  upon 
joys  to  come  ought  not  to  be  frowned  down  and 
discouraged  by  the  elders  who  have  outlived  their 
own  enthusiasm  and  who  have  come  to  believe  hap- 
piness a  delusive  and  transitory  thing. 

What  if  we  know  that  there  is  more  evil  than 
good  in  most  lives,  that  things  seldom  turn  out  as 
well  as  they  promise  and  that  there  is  a  drop  of  bit- 
terness in  the  bottom  of  each  cup  of  sweet,  need  we 
therefore  take  from  buoyant  and  hopeful  childhood 
its  truest  and  deepest  joy,  belief  and  confidence  in 
the  future  ?  Rather  let  us  try  to  sympathize  with 
their  mood,  and  rejoice  and  hope  with  them.  It 
will  do  them  a  great  deal  of  good,  and  perhaps  do 
ourselves  good,  too.  It  is  well  sometimes  to  be 
simple  and  truthful  rather  than  wise,  and  if,  as  one 
of  our  greatest  preachers  taught,  it  is  possible  by 
right  relations  with  others  to  establish  a  heaven 
here  upon  earth,  such  an  application  might  be 
made  of  the  mystically  beautiful  warning  of  Christ: 
"  Unless  ye  become  as  little  children,  ye  cannot  en- 
ter the  kingdom  of  heaven." 


Holly  and  Mistletoe  71 

Christmas  is  not  a  time  for  selfish  enjoyment — if 
there  is  ever  any  real  enjoyment  where  selfishness 
is  present.  It  is  above  all  the  season  of  thoughtful- 
ness  for  others,  of  giving,  of  love  and  kindness  and 
the  play  of  social  feeling.  A  true-hearted  child 
looks  forward  as  happily  to  the  pleasure  he  is  to 
bestow  as  to  that  he  expects  to  receive.  He  pre- 
pares with  a  secrecy  ever  upon  the  point  of  burst- 
ing out,  little  remembrances  for  father  and  mother, 
brothers  and  sisters  and  friends,  and  saves  up  his 
pocket-money  that  he  may  lavishly  dispense  it 
upon  odd  (and  sometimes  pathetically  inappro- 
priate) gifts.  To  be  penniless  and  helpless  at 
Christmas  time  is  a  grief  the  young  can  feel  as  well 
as  the  old,  and  with  scarce  less  keenness. 

And  this  is  one  reason  why,  despite  all  the  excel- 
lent reasons  that  can  be  adduced  upon  the  other 
side,  I  advocate  providing  children  with  a  regular 
allowance  of  pocket-money,  and  teaching  them  from 
an  early  age  how  to  make  purchases.  To  save  for  the 
sake  of  giving  is  an  education  in  generosity  and  in 
that  care-taking  for  others  which  is  so  essential  an 
element  of  later  life.  Let  the  little  ones  save  up 
their  pennies  to  spend  when  the  time  comes,  and 
then,  with  blithe  hearts  and  liberal  intentions,  they 
will  "  go  Christmasing  "  on  their  own  account  and 
learn  to  take  part  in  the  general  effort  to  promote 
the  happiness  of  the  season. 


72  Holly  and  Mistletoe 

And  a  word  must  be  said  on  behalf  of  the  elder 
young  persons  in  the  family — those  who  are  no 
longer  children,  yet  have  not  outgrown,  despite 
their  pretence  of  sedateness,  the  childish  liking  for 
indulgence  and  good  times.  We  are  apt  to  think 
chieflly  of  the  little  ones  who  clamor  of  their  affairs, 
and  neglect  the  needs  of  the  shy  and  silent  half- 
grown  boys  and  girls  who  have  not  so  much  to 
say  for  themselves.  And  yet  they,  especially,  ought 
to  be  drawn  into  the  stream  of  activity  and  invited 
to  take  part  in  the  merry-making.  Use  this  oppor- 
tunity to  melt  the  stiffness  which  is  a  malady  of  the 
"  teens,"  and  convince  the  lads  and  lassies  who  feel 
awkward  and  de  trop  that  there  is  a  place  for  them, 
and  that  their  services  are  indispensable.  Pray  see 
to  it  that  some  shy  and  sensitive  young  creature 
does  not  hide  away  to  mourn  privately  that  he  or 
she  is  not  wanted.  Such  a  feeling  is  a  little  affecta- 
tion, of  course,  but  leads  to  very  real  discomfort, 
and  we  must  recognize  the  first  symptoms  of  the 
discontent  and  break  it  up. 

Let  us  make  the  holiday  season  a  real  time  of 
rejoicing  and  innocent  frolicking  and  general  good 
will  and  conviviality.  Let  old  and  young,  the 
stately  heads  of  the  family  and  the  servants,  meet 
on  the  common  ground  of  humanity  and  good  feel- 
ing, and  enjoy  together  for  a  little  while  a  relaxation 
of  ordinary  restrjiints.    Old  customs  are  sweet,  and 


Holly  and  Mistletoe  73 

the  best  prayer  I  can  make  for  all  the  children 
throughout  the  land,  whom  I  dearly  love,  and  for 
the  elders,  in  whom  I  take  a  warm  interest,  is  that 
upon  the  day  now  close  at  hand  they  may  all  enjoy 
together  an  "  old-fashioned  Christmas."  And  with 
even  deeper  earnestness  the  prayer  is  made  that  the 
glow  of  our  hearth  fires  may  spread  abroad  and 
warm  those  who  will  be  cold  and  cheerless  without 
the  loving  remembrance  of  kind  hearts.  In  the 
midst  of  our  merrymakings  we  ought  surely  to  let 
a  thought  and  a  humane  effort  extend  out  toward 
"  God's  poor." 


It  is  said  that  in  "  old  times  "  children  listened  to  the  con- 
versation of  their  elders,  and  so  learned  something  of  what 
was  going  on  in  the  world;  now,  the  elders  listen  to  the 
children,  and  so  learn  how  the  world  is  going. 


A  View  of  School  Life 

The  indifference  of  the  majority  of  parents  to- 
ward their  children's  school  life  is  surprising.  In 
their  opinion  there  is  a  great  gulf  fixed  between 
that  and  their  home  life.  During  the  one  period 
they  are  supposed  to  be  under  the  guardianship 
and  control  of  a  corporation  expressly  provided  to 
take  charge  of  their  mental  training,  and  the  whole 
responsibility  as  to  this  part  of  their  education  is 
shifted  upon  the  persons  who  happen  to  occupy 
temporarily  the  position  of  teachers. 

Very  few  parents  take  the  pains  to  become  per- 
sonally acquainted  with  the  men  and  women  who 
are  invested  with  such  vast  authority  over  their 
children.  They  would  not  permit  anything  like 
this  free  intercourse  with  any  other  stranger,  but 
while  they  claim  the  privilege  of  supervising  the  in- 
timacies that  their  children  indulge  outside  of 
school,  the  mere  fact  that  she  is  their  teacher  ex- 
empts a  woman  from  those  investigations  regarded 
as  necessary  and  proper  under  other  circum- 
stances. 

Perhaps  parents  ordinarily  underestimate  the  ex- 

75 


^6  A  View  of  School  Life 


tent  of  a  teacher's  influence.  They  believe  school 
Hfe  to  consist  almost  wholly  of  set  recitations,  and 
lessons  learned  from  books,  and  some  of  them  en- 
tertain the  ag-reeable  opinion  that  the  child  goes  to 
school  simply  to  become  proficient  in  certain  in- 
tellectual acquirements,  and  that  his  character  will 
not  be  affected  by  a  merely  perfunctory  relation 
with  his  instructors. 

But  the  intellectual  training  he  obtains  is  by  no 
means  the  only  education  a  child  acquires  at  school. 
A  teacher  possesses,  from  the  very  fact  of  his  or  her 
position,  a  great  moral  influence.  It  is  not  inferior 
in  scope  to  the  power  of  the  preacher.  The  little 
raised  platform  on  which  stands  the  perhaps  shabby 
desk  from  which  issue  continually  suggestions 
and  admonitions,  is  no  less  a  pulpit  because  the 
utterances  of  its  occupant  are  supposed  to  be  of  a 
secular  nature.  There  is  no  wall  between  learn- 
ing and  ethics,  indeed,  the  two  are  inseparable,  and 
with  every  addition  to  our  knowledge  our  ideas  of 
right  and  wrong  become  modified.  Tlie  teacher 
interprets  for  the  benefit  of  his  pupils,  he  points 
the  moral  of  a  lesson,  and  they  see,  for  the  time, 
through  his  eyes.  Far  from  being  insensible  to 
impressions  during  these  hours,  the  child's  con- 
science is  alive  to  impressions  at  the  time  that  his 
mental  activity  is  greatest,  and  the  influence  of  his 
teacher's  advice  and  suggestions  may  be  so  power- 


A  View  of  School  Life  'j'j 

ful  as  even  to  outweigh  all  the  influence  exerted  in 
a  contrary  direction  at  home. 

We  naturally  respect  one  who  is  our  superior  in 
knowledge,  and  the  teacher  invariably  starts  out 
with  this  immense  advantage.  Besides  that  which 
is  vested  in  his  own  personality  he  'has  power  de- 
rived from  being  part  of  a  system,  a  body  in  which 
is  supposed  to  be  accumulated  the  wisdom  of  the 
country  in  educational  matters,  and  the  young  neo- 
phyte bows  to  this  mysterious  divinity  and  to  its 
representative.  So  it  comes  about  that  after  awhile 
the  child  begins  to  question  whether  his  parent-^ — 
who  incautiously  betrays  forgetfulness  of  facts 
that  are  to  the  student,  at  present,  the  most  impor- 
tant facts  in  the  world — knows  as  much  as  he  does 
himself,  while  he  is  sure  that  his  teacher  knows 
more.  Where  is  the  balance  of  power  now  ? 
Who,  under  these  circumstances,  has  most  to  do 
with  moulding  the  character  of  the  child  ? 

Some  parents  are  well  aware  of  a  teacher's 
power  in  influencing  a  child's  conduct  ;  notably, 
those  of  the  poorer  class,  who  have  so  little  time  to 
become  acquainted  with  their  own  children  that 
they  deal  with  them  almost  entirely  upon  general 
principles,  scold,  advise,  and  punish  at  recurrent  in- 
tervals, and  are  happy  to  throw  as  much  of  their  re- 
sponsibility as  they  can  rid  themselves  of  upon 
other  shoulders.     Instances  are  not  uncommon  of 


yS  A  View  of  School  Life 

a  mother  confessing  that  the  child  she  has  borne 
and  nourished  is  less  susceptible  to  her  direction 
than  to  that  of  the  comparative  stranger  employed 
to  supervise  his  mental  development.  One  mother 
actually  went  to  her  boy's  teacher  and  implored 
her  to  advise  Johnny  "  to  behave  himself  better  at 
home."  Adding  pathetically,  "  he  will  do  what- 
ever you  tell  him,  and  I  can't  do  anything  with 
him,"  It  would  seem  as  if  this  was  asking  rather 
more  than  is  fair  of  a  woman  who  had  seventy  boys 
under  her  charge,  and  to  whom  Johnny  was  an 
atom  in  the  mass,  hurriedly  considered  and  scarcely 
known  in  his  own  personality  apart  from  the 
others.  In  this  respect  our  crowded  public  schools 
are  not  as  efficient  as  were  the  old  country  district 
schools,  where  the  teacher  had  a  more  intimate  as- 
sociation with  her  pupils. 

It  is  due  to  teachers  to  say  that  usually  they  do 
the  best  they  can.  Often  overworked  and  annoyed 
by  lack  of  proper  facilities  for  carrying  on  their 
labors  to  the  best  advantage,  they  yet  contrive  to 
fulfil  what  is  expected  of  them,  not  only  by  that  ex- 
acting body,  the  Board  of  Education,  but  by  par- 
ents themselves.  Yet,  teachers  are  not  exempt  from 
ordinary  failings  of  humanity.  They  are  liable  to 
be  inefficient,  superficial,  unjust,  impetuous,  as 
other  men  and  women  are.  They  are  liable  to  take 
unaccountable  aversions  and  likings  to  certain  pu-i 


A  View  of  School  Life  79 

pils,  and  if  not  restrained  by  the  strictest  sense  of 
duty,  to  have  scapegoats  and  favorites,  who  are  re- 
spectively embittered  or  spoiled.  It  is  absurd  to 
believe  that  every  tutor  is  fitted  to  undertake  the 
guidance  of  these  young  human  beings  left  so  com- 
pletely to  his  control.  At  best,  he  is  likely  to  enter- 
tain decided  opinions  as  to  life  and  conduct  much 
at  variance  with  the  ideas  of  the  parents,  and  if  the 
latter  choose  to  exercise  the  direction  it  is  natural 
for  persons  of  strong  character  to  exert,  the  child 
is  shuttlecocked  between  tutor  and  guardian,  and 
either  rendered  ^vacillating  or  rebellious. 

Both  parent  and  teacher  may  wish  to  serve  the 
best  interest  of  the  child;  each  is  a  most  valuable 
element,  and  each  should  be  able  to  give  him  some- 
thing not  to  be  obtained  from  the  other.  But  if 
they  work  in  contrary  directions,  they  annihilate 
one  another  ;  and  if  only  one  labors,  the  other  re- 
maining passive  and  indifferent,  comparatively  lit- 
tle can  be  accomplished.  School  life  and  home  life 
should  go  on  harmoniously,  and  supplement  each 
other.  There  should  be  no  clashing  nor  confusion. 
And  the  only  way  that  this  can  be  brought  about  is 
for  parent  and  teacher  +0  understand  one  another, 
to  exchange  views  and  experiences,  and  by  putting 
together  the  two  halves  of  the  child's  existence 
make  a  complete  picture  that  will  present  him  to 
them  both  in  his  entire  personality,  and  enable 


8o  A  View  of  School  Life 

both  to  exert  their  united  influence  in  the  same  di- 
rection, and  for  his  true  welfare. 

The  question  that  naturally  comes  up  is,  How 
can  the  right  relations  be  established  between  par- 
ents and  teachers  ?  It  is  true  that  there  are  some 
difficulties  in  the  way  of  these  friendly  relations 
which  it  is  not  within  the  power  of  the  teachers  to 
remove,  although  in  general  they  appreciate  the 
great  advantage  to  the  children  of  this  personal 
acquaintance.  It  might  be  possible  to  have  occa- 
sional social  meetings  of  parents  and  teachers  in 
the  schoolrooms,  in  the  evening;  but  the  usual  rule 
is  that  the  school  buildings  shall  not  be  used  for 
any  other  purposes  than  for  the  routine  work  of 
the  school.  There  are  no  social  gatherings,  none 
of  the  many  features  of  entertainment  and  instruc- 
tion which  would  greatly  advance  the  interest  of 
the  students  and  add  to  the  general  welfare  of  the 
community. 

At  rare  intervals,  it  is  true,  some  parents  visit 
the  schools  and  have  a  little  talk  with  a  teacher, 
and  it  has  been  remarked  by  the  latter  that  such  a 
visit  from  father  or  mother  invariably  has  a  good 
effect  upon  the  child  ;  that  he  is  for  awhile  after- 
wards more  tractable,  and  more  interested  in  his 
studies  from  the  sense  of  this  oversight.  But,  many 
parents  do  not  enter  their  child's  schoolhouse  dur- 
ing the  entire  year;   do  not  know  his  teacher  by 


A  View  of  School  Life  8 1 

sight,  and  have  the  vaguest  idea  of  the  studies  he  is 
pursuing.  In  fact,  the  child  is  completely  aban- 
doned to  the  charge  of  his  tutors  and  his  educa- 
tion is  supposed  to  be  adequately  provided  for. 

That  this  is  not  the  best  condition  of  affairs  is 
proved  by  the  marked  superiority  of  the  pupils 
whose  parents  interest  themselves  in  their  studies, 
and  seek  a  personal  acquaintance  with  their  teach- 
ers. In  every  instance  this  is  distinctly  beneficial  to 
the  child.  Acquiring  an  education  is  not  an  easy 
task;  there  is  much  that  is  monotonous,  dreary, 
and  seemingly  useless.  If  the  child  perceives  that 
his  parent  is  indifferent,  that  he  looks  upon  the 
school  period  merely  as  so  much  time  to  be  passed 
in  a  certain  way,  he  very  naturally  views  the  matter 
himself  as  a  perfunctory  duty,  to  be  performed 
somehow,  and  with  as  little  labor  as  can  be  put  into 
it.  The  children  of  the  great  middle  class,  who  go 
to  school  as  a  matter  of  course,  are  more  apt  to  be 
in  this  indififerent  mood  than  the  very  poor,  for  the 
parents  of  the  latter  are  usually  ambitious  that 
something  shall  come  of  the  sacrifices  they  make 
to  let  their  children  be  educated,  and  although  they 
are  themselves  ignorant,  they  inquire  frequently 
whether  their  boys  and  girls  are  doing  as  well  as 
can  be  expected  of  them,  and  keep  them  up  to  the 
mark  pretty  effectually. 

Teachers  who  have  a  class  of  from  fifty  to  sev- 


82  A  View  of  School  Life 

enty  pupils — and  unhappily  in  most  large  schools 
this  is  the  average — have  not  time  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  their  pupils  individually  during 
school  hours,  and  this  is  a  great  loss  to  the  chil- 
dren. Sometimes  a  little  consideration  for  the  pe- 
culiarities of  a  child  makes  all  the  difference  be- 
tween success  for  him  or  failure,  and  often  if  a 
teacher  was  enlightened  by  a  few  suggestions  from 
the  parent  as  to  his  disposition,  the  course  could 
be  made  much  smoother. 

As  a  rule  teachers  are  glad  to  have  parents  visit 
the  school  and  pleased  at  any  evidence  of  interest 
in  methods  and  progress.  There  are  exceptions, 
and  sometimes  the  well-meant  advances  of  parents 
are  met  by  cold  rebuffs.  But  in  general,  teachers 
are  fully  alive  to  the  value  of  parental  co-operation, 
and  are  quite  ready  to  embrace  every  opportunity 
to  bring  about  those  personal  relations  which 
would  render  the  task  of  guiding  the  children  more 
a  matter  of  intelligence  and  less  a  matter  of  chance. 

The  difficulty  in  the  way  of  establishing  such  a 
relation  lies  apparently  not  with  the  teachers,  but 
with  the  parents.  It  is  their  indifference,  their  cul- 
pable indolence  and  carelessness,  which  permit 
wrong  conditions  to  exist,  and  make  their  chil- 
dren suffer  from  the  evils  which  are  quite  remedi- 
able if  a  little  energy  were  judiciously  employed. 
Parents  do  not  understand  the  advantage  of  united 


A  View  of  School  Life  83 

effort.  They  stand  by  themselves,  each  family  bul- 
warked by  its  own  pride  of  isolation,  and  conse- 
quently the  efforts  of  those  who  are  sufficiently  in- 
terested to  attempt  reform  where  it  is  needful,  pass 
merely  for  individual  protests.  Yet,  parents  are  the 
great  power  in  the  community.  They  can  accom- 
plish anything,  have  whatever  they  wish.  There  is 
no  reason  why  they  should  submit  to  impositions 
or  abide  by  the  mistakes  of  those  in  a  minority. 
They  make  school  boards  and  pay  for  school  build- 
ings and  for  instruction.  It  is  their  duty  to  see  that 
their  money  is  properly  expended  and  that  the  best 
results  are  wrought.  Yet,  they  often  stand  help- 
lessly before  as  great  an  evil  as  could  possibly  exist, 
and  doom  their  children  to  conditions  which  inev- 
itably bring  about  in  many  of  them  ill  health,  de- 
pleted energies,  loss  of  hope  and  enthusiasm  in 
their  work,  and  consequent  ruin  to  their  intellec- 
tual development. 

In  every  city  there  are  overcrowded  schools. 
Classrooms  built  to  accommodate  fifty  children  are 
made  to  contain  sixty  or  seventy,  even  seventy- 
five  !  Teachers  say  that  they  sometimes  have  ten 
or  more  children  in  their  rooms  who  have  no  desks. 
They  are  obliged  to  sit  for  hours  on  forms  without 
backs  to  them,  to  sit  upon  the  floor,  and  do  their 
writing  upon  the  steam  radiator  !  It  is  almost  im- 
possible  to   preserve   order   under   such    circum- 


84  A  View  of  School  Life 

stances,  and  it  is  unreasonable  to  require  the  chil- 
dren to  do  good  work  without  any  facilities.  In 
the  manual  training-schools  three  boys  occupy  the 
space  that  rightfully  belongs  to  but  two.  Neither 
carpentering,  wood-carving,  nor  drawing  can  go  on 
properly.  Thousands  of  children  are  turned  away 
from  the  schools  annually  because  they  absolutely 
cannot  get  inside  the  buildings,  and  the  strain  of 
competition  is  so  great  that  often  the  smallest  pre- 
text is  seized  upon  to  dislodge  a  child  who  would 
have  been  helped  to  overcome  his  deficiency  in 
scholarship  if  there  were  not  so  large  a  number  of 
outsiders  eagerly  waiting  for  his  place. 

All  the  physical  exercises  that  can  be  devised  can- 
not obviate  the  injury  to  a  child's  figure  caused  by 
prolonged  stooping  over  his  books  when  he  is 
obliged  to  sit  without  any  support  to  his  back,  and 
to  write  and  draw  upon  the  floor.  "  Are  parents 
aware  of  these  conditions  ? "  was  incredulously 
asked  of  a  teacher,  lately.  "  Oh,  they  do  not  in- 
quire," was  the  reply.  "  They  are  too  glad  to  get  a 
child  into  the  school  at  all,  to  be  fussy.  But  I  am 
sorry  for  the  children.  I  do  the  best  I  can  for  them, 
but  how  can  I  make  more  room  ?  " 

There  is  but  one  way  to  obviate  this  evil.  We 
must  have  more  school  buildings,  and  employ  more 
teachers.  Whatever  sum  is  spent  upon  education 
must  be  increased  if  there  is  positive  proof  of  its 


A  View  of  School  Life  85 

being  inadequate.  If  parents  cannot  provide  for 
their  children  properly  they  should  have  none.  And 
if  there  are  some  unrecognized  forces  working 
against  the  best  interests  of  their  ofifspring  in  a 
country  which  affords  almost  unlimited  natural  fa- 
cilities for  right  development,  inquiry  should  be 
made  into  the  causes  and  there  should  be  speedy 
redress.  The  children  are  growing  apace.  Every 
month  and  year  is  of  vast  importance  in  their 
lives.  They  cannot  afford  to  wait  the  slow  action  of 
legislatures.  Let  parents  themselves  take  in  hand 
these  matters  which  are  distinctively  their  own  af- 
fair. A  general  petition,  signed  by  all  the  parents 
of  any  community,  would  compel  attention.  Any 
measure  that  they  would  unite  upon  would  be  car- 
ried. The  chief  difficulty  is  to  induce  them  to  co- 
operate. A  parent  whose  child  has  a  pleasant  berth 
in  the  school  prefers  to  let  well  alone,  and  has  lit- 
tle sympathy  to  bestow  upon  outsiders,  while  the 
outsiders  fear  to  incur  disfavor  by  being  aggres- 
sive. Truly,  most  of  the  good  things  in  this  life 
are  lost,  not  from  want  of  ability  to  get  them,  but 
from  indifference. 

When  the  matter  is  put  plainly  before  them, 
however,  parents  cannot  refuse  to  see  that  it  is 
their  duty  to  exercise  some  care  and  oversight  over 
that  large  portion  of  their  children's  lives  which 
is  spent  in  the  schoolroom.      Personal  acquaint- 


86  A  View  of  School  Life 

ance  with  the  teachers,  scrutiny  of  the  sanitary 
condition  of  the  school  buildings  and  of  their  ac- 
commodations, and  some  supervision  of  their  chil- 
dren's school  work  are  indispensable  aids  to  that 
education  they  are,  in  general,  anxious  to  secure 
for  their  boys  and  girls.  And  when  their  interest 
is  once  aroused  it  cannot  be  long  before  the  bar- 
riers in  the  way  of  free  intercourse  between  parents 
and  teachers  are  removed.  Associations  will  be 
formed,  and  places  of  meeting  agreed  upon;  topics 
for  discussion  will  be  selected,  and  the  interchange 
of  experiences  will  be  found  an  invaluable  element 
in  the  labors  of  both. 

Surprising  developments  often  take  place  where 
parents  and  teachers  come  together,  and  there  al- 
ways results  a  better  understanding  of  the  child 
and  an  increased  interest  in  his  welfare. 


An  innocent  application  of  an  unwary  remark  was  made 
by  a  small  maid  of  four,  in  whose  presence  her  mother  had 
observed  one  day  that,  as  she  had  but  one  child,  all  her 
jewelry  would  belong  to  Daisy  when  she  died.  The  next 
day  as  Daisy  was  standing  by  the  bureau  admiring  the  jewel 
casket  she  suddenly  fixed  her  bright  eyes  on  her  mother  and 
observed  gently,  "  Mamma,  I  wiss  you'd  hurry  up  and  die!  " 
"  Why,  my  dear — why  does  my  little  girl  want  her  mamma 
to  die? "  asked  her  mother,  shocked  at  this  cool  disposal 
of  herself.  "  B clause, "  said  little  Daisy  gravely,  "den  I  would 
have  de  watch  an'  de  shane  and  all  de  pitty  sings." 


Children  Love  Color 

Among  the  valid  reasons  why  the  practice  of 
wearing-  mourning  should  be  discontinued  is  its  in- 
jurious effect  upon  children.  They  are  naturally 
fond  of  bright  colors  and  are  sensibly  afifected  by 
the  dress  of  their  elders.  Black  is  generally  de- 
tested, and  crape,  that  unwholesome  substitute  for 
suttee,  is  sufficient  to  cast  a  pall  over  the  merriest 
spirits.  And  it  is  not  a  transient  depression,  to 
be  easily  cast  off,  for  a  child's  mind  is  like  a  flower; 
whatever  hurts  at  all,  injures  for  all  time.  Infan- 
tile prejudices  and  tastes  influence  us  unaware,  in 
the  affairs  of  maturity. 

The  disposition  of  a  man  or  woman  is  fixed  by 
the  prevailing  mood  of  his  childhood.  Whatever 
influences  him  toward  cheerfulness  builds  up  his 
store  of  energy  and  courage,  increasing  his  power 
of  success  and  usefulness,  and  whatever  saddens 
him  lowers  his  vitality  in  the  same  degree,  affect- 
ing both  health  and  temper.  Observe  a  child  who 
has  spent  years  in  a  house  where  several  female 
relatives  perform  their  conventional  duty  to  some 
deceased  member  of  the  family  by  wearing  mourn- 
ing.    Almost  surely,  if  a  boy,  he  is  gloomy  and 


Children  Love  Color  89 

sullen;  if  a  girl,  she  is  pale  and  pathetic.  And 
this  period,  which  should  contain  the  storehouse 
of  bright  and  happy  recollections,  is  dark  with  un- 
necessary sorrow. 

Our  duty  is  to  the  living.  The  man  or  woman 
who  finds  nothing  in  all  the  world  to  take  as  a  new 
centre  of  interest  when  that  which  was  dearest  is 
gone,  pays  little  compliment  to  the  understanding 
of  the  Supreme  Power  that  exacts  of  him  still  to 
live  and  work.  We  have  no  right  to  "  broaden 
the  skirts  of  darkness  "  ever  hovering  cloud-like 
about  our  spiritual  world,  by  materializing  gloom 
in  our  own  persons  to  youthful  eyes.  Children 
have  an  ardent  love  of  grace  and  prettiness.  They 
hover  about  a  beautifully  dressed  woman,  adoring 
every  tint  of  her  gown,  and  revelling  in  the  lustre 
of  her  jewels.  A  careless,  indifferent  society 
woman  who  flutters  into  the  nursery  for  a  few 
minutes  before  going  out  to  a  ball  will  often  arouse 
the  most  passionate  admiration  in  the  breasts  of 
her  neglected  children,  who  fall  under  the  spell 
of  her  beauty.  Far  off  as  she  is  from  them  she 
represents  a  world  all  light  and  loveliness,  and  they 
cherish  the  picture  of  her  in  their  hearts.  She  ex- 
erts through  her  outward  charms  an  influence  her 
character  could  not  command. 

The  devoted  mother  who  plods  about  in  a  dingy 
gown  is  not  nearly  so  much  loved,  although  time. 


go  Children  Love  Color 

w'hich  equalizes  everything-,  reveals  her  value.  But 
why  should  she  lose  the  great  advantag-e  of  attrac- 
tion ?  Putting  aside  all  questions  of  taste  and  ele- 
gance and  dealing  only  with  this  matter  from  the 
standpoint  of  cheerfulness,  it  must  seem  worth 
while  to  every  one  who  thinks  about  it,  to  supply 
the  essential  element  of  bright  colors  in  their  chil- 
dren's daily  lives.  The  mother  who  wore  red  bows 
on  her  slippers  for  her  baby  boy's  sake  was  not  far 
out  of  the  way.     We  could  all  do  at  least  so  much. 


One  of  the  unfortunate  attempts  at  wit  which  a  friend  re- 
calls to  this  day,  although  the  occurrence  lies  forty  years 
back  in  the  annals  of  her  childhood,  is  to  the  following  efifect. 
A  favorite  aunt  became  engaged,  and  little  Fanny  showed 
considerable  aversion  to  the  young  man  who  had  come  to 
"  carry  ofif  her  aunt."  To  propitiate  her  they  one  evening 
took  her  out  driving.  Fanny,  who  prided  herself  upon  her 
propriety  of  speech,  sat  demurely  silent  until  she  had  thought 
of  something  important  to  say.  This  occasion  was  their 
horse  stopping  on  the  road  in  front  of  a  wrecked  vehicle, 
as  if  interested  in  the  sight.  "  Mr.  Moss,"  said  Miss  Fanny, 
"is  yours  a  female  horse?"  "Why?"  asked  the  amused 
gentleman.  "  I  think,"  the  demoiselle  answered,  bringing 
out  her  explanation  with  a  sense  of  triumph  in  her  own 
sagacity,  "  that  she  shows  the  curiosity  of  her  sex  in  stop- 
ping to  look  at  the  wreck!" 


Personalities  and  Vanity 

Many  mothers  who  are  careful  and  judicious 
in  other  respects  commit  the  mistake  of  talking 
about  their  children's  ways  and  peculiarities  when 
the  children  are  present.  To  discuss  a  child's 
character  within  his  own  hearing,  and  especially 
with  some  one  not  a  member  of  the  family,  is  cer- 
tain to  wound  his  feelings  if  he  is  sensitive  and 
shy,  or  to  encourage  conceit  in  him  if  he  is  inclined 
to  be  forward.  In  any  case  it  develops  egotism, 
and  gives  him  the  impression  that  he  is  an  object 
of  great  importance.  Young  ears  should  not  be 
regaled  with  tales  of  their  owner's  exploits,  and 
even  if  we  have  good  reason  to  be  proud  of  our 
children  we  should  avoid  telling  anecdotes  before 
them  which  tend  to  feed  vanity.  Absurdly 
enough,  I  have  even  heard  a  wee  sprout,  perched 
up  on  a  great  chair  in  the  drawing-room  while 
his  mother  was  talking  about  him  to  guests,  drawl 
forth,  "  Mamma,  tell  about  the  day  I  spoke  my 
piece  at  the  kindergarten  !  " 

While  we  ought  to  encourage  goodness  by 
praise  administered  in  private,  laudation  in  public 
is  as  much  to  be  avoided  as  censure  before  wit- 

92 


Personalities  and  Vanity  93 

nesses.  We  must  neither  parade  virtues  nor  faults. 
It  is  a  temptation  to  parents  to  make  a  loving  dis- 
play of  their  young  people,  and  a  very  natural 
thing  to  suppose  that  no  harm  can  come  of  it. 
But  even  leaving  out  the  danger  of  developing 
vanity,  there  is  the  danger  of  setting  an  example 
of  gossip.  Much  of  our  talk  before  children  is 
too  personal.  We  play  without  cessation  upon 
the  strings  of  blame  and  praise,  of  likes  and  dis- 
likes, until  these  newcomers  in  the  world  acquire 
the  idea  that  to  tell  what  they  know  of  the  sayings 
and  doings  of  others,  and  make  comments  thereon, 
is  all  there  is  of  conversation. 

Another  rock  easy  to  split  upon  is  to  rehearse 
before  them  our  methods  of  discipline  and  man- 
agement. This  is  particularly  a  foible  of  parents 
who  are  weak  in  government.  They  think  to  im- 
press little  John  with  the  terrors  in  store  for  dis- 
obedience or  rudeness  by  running  over  in  a  casual 
way  the  kinds  of  punishment  it  is  within  the  power 
of  the  authorities  to  inflict.  Sometimes  a  visitor 
alludes  to  some  graceful  trait,  or  remarks  that  little 
John  does  not  do  some  naughty  thing  lads  are 
prone  to,  and  the  unwise  mamma  will  quickly  re- 
join: "  He  knows  he  would  get  a  whipping  if  he 
did  that  !  "  Whereat  little  John  colors  with  shame 
and  resentment,  feeling  that  a  matter  that  should 
lie  strictly  between  his  mamma  and  himself  has  been 


94  Personalities  and  Vanity 

given  unnecessary  publicity.  And  if  he  is  a  well- 
intentioned  lad  the  outrage  hurts  more  because  it 
has  been  implied  that  he  only  does  right  through 
fear.  Any  courageous  nature  would  have  the  im- 
pulse to  show  hght  under  these  circumstances,  to 
prove  itself  possessed  of  courage.  We  are  trench- 
ing upon  delicate  ground  when  we  touch  the 
springs  either  of  vanity  or  shame,  and  we  had  best 
let  our  children  hear  as  little  as  possible  of  all  those 
allusions  to  themselves  which  it  is  our  habit  to 
make. 

The  custom  of  training  children  to  "  show  ofT  " 
their  singing  and  recitation  and  other  little  ac- 
complishments is  to  be  deplored.  A  tiny  creature, 
beautifully  dressed,  standing  up  to  "  speak  "  be- 
fore an  audience  is  a  questionable  spectacle.  They 
may  enjoy  it,  and  parents  too,  but  at  what  cost  ? 
Self-consciousness,  vanity,  and  aggressiveness 
drive  modesty  out  of  the  child's  heart,  while  the 
elders  are  laying  up  for  themselves  a  stock  of  an- 
noyance for  the  future. 

A  child  who  has  once  tasted  the  sweets  of  flat- 
tery craves  it  thereafter  as  he  does  other  unwhole- 
some delicacies.  It  would  astonish  his  thoughtless 
friends  to  know  the  burning  restlessness  that  ob- 
tains possession  of  a  young  mind  that  has  been 
thoroughly  aroused  into  self-consciousness.  Com- 
pliments and  admiration  are  courted  and  greedily 


Personalities  and  Vanity  95 

hoarded.  Every  word  of  praise  is  repeated  to 
whoever  will  listen,  and  the  days  are  reckoned  as 
those  on  which  certain  pretty  things  were  said  and 
those  that  were  barren  of  compliments.  The  child 
learns  to  "  pose  "  and  falls  with  pitiable  naivete 
into  that  attitude  which  was  once  called  plainly 
"  fishing-  for  compliments."  As  a  nation  we  are 
said  to  be  peculiarly  sensitive  and  vain,  and  we 
need  more  than  ordinary  caution,  in  order  to  dis- 
courage in  our  children  these  undesirable  quali- 
ties which  our  present  carelessness  tends  to  foster. 
A  certain  offset  to  these  flatteries  consists  in  that 
ready  intolerance  of  the  American  people  to  any- 
thing that  is  voted  "  a  bore."  We  are  brave,  we 
are  patient  under  discomforts,  and  we  are  generous 
toward  our  foes;  but  we  cry  out  lustily  against 
what  is  an  infliction  upon  our  nerves;  that  which 
is  tiresome  is  unendurable.  So,  when  the  child  we 
have  petted  and  excited  into  unnatural  forward- 
ness ceases  to  amuse  we  turn  the  cold  shoulder 
toward  his  efforts,  leaving  him  in  puzzled  wonder 
at  our  inconsistency.  An  instance  of  this  occurred 
upon  one  occasion  of  a  parlor  entertainment  where 
a  charming  little  boy  was  coaxed  to  recite  some 
verses  in  the  intervals  of  the  charades.  Mounted 
upon  a  table,  he  went  through  the  task  with  an 
animation  that  showed  the  taste  for  exhibition  to 
be  already  well  developed.     But  excited  by  ap- 


g6  Personalities  and  Vanity 

plause,  he  saw  reason  for  continuing  to  monop- 
olize public  attention,  and  whenever  a  motion  was 
made  to  take  him  down,  he  called  out,  "  I  know 
another  one,  papa  !  "  until  the  amusement  of  the 
onlookers  turned  into  fatigue,  and  murmurs  were 
heard,  "  The  child  is  a  nuisance;  take  him  away  !  " 
And  he  was  taken  away,  indignant  and  protesting. 
A  hard  lesson  for  him,  that  a  public  deposes  its 
favorite  the  instant  it  has  had  enough  of  him;  but 
let  us  hope  he  learned  it  so  thoroughly  as  to  save 
him  from  disappointment  and  heartburning  in  the 
future. 

The  vanity  of  a  parent  which  sees  in  a  child 
nothing  but  a  miniature  of  self  is  the  more  repre- 
hensible when  it  impels  him  to  engage  for  this 
youthful  representative  an  attention  he  could  not 
gracefully  ask  in  his  own  person.  Sometimes  the 
culture  of  talents  is  looked  upon  merely  as  a  means 
of  reflecting  lustre  upon  the  family,  and  children  al- 
ready overloaded  with  a  sense  of  emulation  are 
urged  not  to  fail  in  school  exercises  lest  papa  or 
mamma  should  be  mortified.  Latterly,  what  was 
once  confined  to  the  college  has  come  into  the 
school,  and  primary  teachers  and  even  kinder- 
garten teachers  have  caught  the  fever  and  turn  the 
beautiful  lessons  of  Froebel  into  amusing  specta- 
cles for  the  public.  It  was  gratifying  to  see  in  one 
of  the  leading  educational  journals  of  the  West 


Personalities  and  Vanity  97 

a  protest  against  the  exhibit  of  kindergarten 
games  at  the  Columbian  exposition.  Such  exhibi- 
tions are  certainly  a  perversion  of  the  spirit  and 
aim  of  Froebel's  lessons  which  may  seem  trivial 
and  meaningless  to  minds  incapable  of  penetrating 
below  the  surface,  but  are  full  of  profound  moral 
purpose  to  the  earnest  and  thoughtful  observer. 

That  kindergarten  teacher  was  excusable,  al- 
though mistaken,  who  in  her  anxiety  to  cater  to 
the  wishes  of  her  patrons  for  pretty  spectacles,  sub- 
stituted Delsartian  attitudes  for  the  breath  calis- 
thenics the  professor  she  had  engaged  wished  to 
give  the  children.  "  I  wanted  you  to  teach  them 
some  graceful  attitudes  for  the  Christmas  exhibi- 
tion," she  said  with  a  most  innocent  show  of  dis- 
appointment. *'  Then  you  should  have  engaged 
some  one  to  veneer,  not  develop  your  pupils,"  the 
thorough-going  professor  responded.  And  he 
spoke  the  difficulty  of  a  number  of  teachers  who 
conscientiously  desire  to  do  their  best  for  their  pu- 
pils but  are  balked  by  parental  vanity  and  super- 
ficiality. Even  in  the  midst  of  this  terrible  hurly- 
burly  of  our  period,  which  makes  us  wild  for  some- 
thing to  show  and  to  look  at,  it  would  be  well  for 
us  to  recollect  that  "  Life  is  real,  life  is  earnest," 
and  exhibition  is  not  the  chief  end  of  mankind. 

Teachers  cannot  stem  the  tide  of  parental 
wishes;  they  must  give  substantially  what  parents 


98  Personalities  and  Vanity 

are  willing  to  pay  for,  and  if  exhibitions  are  pre- 
ferred to  real  progress,  the  latter  must  be  sacri- 
ficed. But  let  there  be  no  mistake  about  its  being 
really  sacrificed.  Drill  takes  an  immense  amount 
of  time,  and  to  make  very  small  children  act  auto- 
matically, so  that  a  pretty  effect  is  secured,  uses 
all  the  energy  of  pupils  and  teacher.  The  differ- 
ence between  true  and  false  education  is  in  their 
glitter.  Mental  growth  is  slow,  internal,  and  only 
manifest  in  the  whole  character  of  the  individual; 
while  one  who  has  devoted  his  time  to  learning 
motions  can  go  through  them  when  called  upon, 
to  the  admiration  of  an  audience.  Superficial  per- 
sons will  never  apprehend  that  the  most  valuable 
lessons  are  those  which  cast  no  mark  upon  the 
bulletin  sheet  of  the  school,  but  sink  deep  into  the 
mind  of  the  pupil  to  be  reproduced  some  day  in 
living  words  and  acts  whose  source  no  one  will 
trace. 


That  the  ability  to  overreach  competitors  is  born  in  per- 
sons no  one  would  doubt  who  had  ever  known  my  young 

friend  Hattie  D .     Yet  there  were  good  points  about  the 

child,  and  her  little  vice  was  innocently  pursued.  So  she 
had  rather  a  rude  shock  one  day  when  public  opinion  de- 
nounced her.  The  children  in  the  neighborhood  had  clubbed 
their  pocket-money  to  make  a  party  in  the  back  yard  of 
one  of  the  number,  but  a  dead  lull  took  place  in  the  middle 
of  the  festivities  and  the  mother  of  the  young  hostess  went 
out  to  inquire  into  it.  Her  daughter  rushed  up  to  her 
and,  pointing  to  the  offending  guest,  cried  indignantly,  "  Oh, 
mamma,  mamma!  We  all  put  in  five  cents  but  Hattie,  and 
she  only  put  in  a  cent,  and  now,  after  eating  up  all  the 
party,  she  is  mad  at  us  and  wants  her  cent  back!" 


When  Character  is  Forming 

Bret  Harte,  in  one  of  his  characteristic  stories 
in  verse,  describes  a  certain  clique  of  young  men 
who  pledged  themselves  to  reform  upon  New 
Year's  Day,  and  fell  away  from  grace,  one  by  one, 
until  by  mid-spring  not  a  single  upholder  of  the 
faith  was  left.  The  question  is  suggested  as  to 
whether  it  is  worth  while  to  pledge  one's  self  to 
conduct  much  above  and  beyond  our  habitual 
practice,  since  broken  faith  is  almost  inevitable. 
Nothing  is  more  certain  than  that  after  that  period 
of  life  is  iv^ched  when  character  is  established,  and 
habits  more  or  less  fixed,  a  person  will  continue, 
despite  new  impulses,  to  do  about  as  he  has  done 
in  general,  and  that  a  total  revolution,  either  in 
aim  or  accomplishment,  is  to  a  degree  improbable. 

But  the  case  is  altogether  different  in  early  life. 
While  character  is  in  process  of  forming  every  ef- 
fort in  the  right  direction,  every  aspiration  toward 
a  high  standard  has  an  influence  which  will  tell 
later  on.  And  the  higher  the  ideal  that  is  held  up 
before  the  youthful  gaze  the  greater  will  be  at- 
tainment, for  we  may  always  count  upon  falling 
short  of  our  wishes;  and  the  boy  who  starts  out  in 

lOO 


When  Character  is  Forming        loi 

life  with  heroic  intentions  will  do  more  and  make 
better  progress  than  one  who  expects  little  of  him- 
self. Unnumbered  failures  precede  every  advance 
in  goodness;  fresh  starts,  renewed  resolutions, 
stumbles,  repentances,  and  beginning  over  again 
make  up  the  history  of  ordinary  life. 

If  the  child  who  makes  promises  of  unexampled 
excellence  yet  falls  into  pitfalls  of  naughtiness 
loses  courage,  and  thinks  it  no  longer  worth  while 
to  try,  he  should  be  encouraged  by  every  tender 
device,  and  restored  to  self-respect.  What  if  every 
night  the  slate  that  records  the  day's  history  is 
marred  and  scratched  with  blunders  and  w'ilful  er- 
rors ?  Is  it  not  better  to  expunge  them  all  and 
begin  the  next  new  day  with  a  fair,  fresh  surface,  in 
the  hope  that  the  writing  may  be  cleaner  and  more 
beautiful  ?  If  it  were  possible,  I  w^ould  v/ipe  out 
even  the  memory  of  a  naughty  yesterday,  and  turn 
all  his  thoughts  and  hopes  toward  the  future;  for 
the  child  who  is  compelled  to  think  of  himself  as 
bad  is  like  a  man  in  a  well  w^ho  sees  the  sun  far 
above  him  but  is  unable  to  climb  up  toward  warmth 
and  comfort.  While,  on  the  other  hand,  the  feel- 
ing that  the  old  self  has  been  cast  ofif  with  the 
night,  and  that  with  the  dawn  come  fresh  possi- 
bilities, is  an  inspiration  and  an  incentive  toward 
stronger  efforts  than  we  have  made  before. 

I  remember  that  in  my  childish  days  the  New 


I02       When  Character  is  Forming 

Year  used  to  seem  like  a  tangible,  positive  thing. 
I  fancied  that  the  world  settled  up  all  its  old  affairs 
on  the  31st  of  December  and  made  an  entirely  new 
beginning  with  the  dawn  of  January  ist.  And  I 
felt  an  obligation  upon  myself  to  make  new  begin- 
nings. There  was  a  sweeping  away  of  the  old  lit- 
ter of  toys  in  order  that  the  charming  Christmas 
gifts  might  have  room,  and  there  was  secretly  the 
turning  over  of  a  new  leaf  in  my  young  life,  and  the 
banishment  of  certain  habits  which  my  conscience 
disapproved  but  which  it  seemed  only  possible  to 
shake  off  when  the  old  year,  with  its  darkened  vis- 
age, should  have  relaxed  its  hold  upon  me. 

Who  among  us  cannot  recall  such  pathetic  ef- 
forts to  "  put  off  the  armor  of  darkness  and  put  on 
the  armor  of  light  "  ?  And  do  we  not  also  recol- 
lect the  keen  pang  aroused  when  some  slight  pec- 
cadillo brought  down  from  an  unconscious  elder 
the  wholesale  reproach  of  "  Naughty  child  !  al- 
ways doing  something  you  ought  not  to  do  !  " 
Always  !  Was  it  so  ?  Did  our  good  resolutions, 
our  earnest  efforts  count  for  nothing,  and  were  we 
accounted  by  the  critics  whose  judgment  was  un- 
impeachable no  better  this  week  than  we  were  last? 
Away,  then,  with  poor  little  attempts  at  reform, 
and  let  us  return  to  the  easy  path  of  indifference. 
As  well  have  a  good  time  since  we  were  considered 
thoughtless  and  selfish  anyhow. 


When  Character  is  Forming       103 

Ah,  mothers,  take  care  what  you  say;  forbear 
these  sweeping  reproofs,  lest  you  blast  in  the  bud 
with  your  icy  criticism  some  tender  plant  of  prom- 
ise your  child  is  nurturing  in  his  heart  with  timid 
hope.  Many  and  severe  are  the  discouragements 
to  virtue  in  childhood.  Added  to  the  impulses  of 
passion  is  the  charge  of  a  parent  or  teacher  that 
one  is  cursed  with  "  a  bad  temper"  ;  upon  the  clog 
of  gross  appetite  is  dropped  the  heavier  weight 
that  the  home  community  has  dubbed  the  small 
gourmand  "  a  pig  "  ;  and — final  horror  ! — some 
involuntary  deviation  from  truth  has  provoked  the 
saying  that  "  You  cannot  believe  what  that  child 
tells."  Are  we  totally  forgetful  of  our  own  sensi- 
tiveness to  public  censure  ?  Are  we  not  aware 
that  we  are  very  much  inclined  to  live  up  or  down 
to  our  neighbors'  opinion  of  us,  and  are  better  or 
worse  in  agreement  with  what  our  friends  expect  ? 
So,  too,  are  children  swayed  in  the  right  or  wrong 
direction,  readily  inclined  to  goodness  or  evil  ac- 
cording to  suggestions,  as  the  sensitive  weather- 
vane  obeys  the  motion  of  the  wind. 

With  all  the  impetus  that  can  be  gathered  let  us 
send  the  little  child  onward  each  day  toward  a 
higher  life.  The  instinct  childhood  has,  to  make 
epochs  for  itself  and  fence  ofif  time  into  distinct 
periods,  is  a  wise  one.  No  better  way  can  be  de- 
vised for  re-creation  than  to  believe  that  the  past 


I04       When  Character  is  Forming 

is  dead,  and  a  clean,  fair  future  before  us.  It  seems 
to  me  a  good  plan  to  encourage  the  children  to 
fancy  that  with  the  death  of  the  old  year  their  old, 
faulty  selves  may  be  made  to  perish  also,  and  that 
on  New  Year's  Day  a  new  world  spreads  out 
wherein  they  can  enter  hopefully  and  coura- 
geously, unfettered  with  memories  or  reproaches 
from  the  past.  And  when  the  lofty  little  head  is 
drooped,  and  the  poor  little  heart  wounded  with  a 
sense  of  its  failures,  let  us  inspire  and  cheer  the 
child  instead  of  adding  censure  to  self-reproach. 
For  out  of  a  thousand  failures  success  grows  at 
last,  and  to  the  heart  that  keeps  up  its  courage 
there  cornes  at  length  the  fruition  of  the  hope  that 
has  inspired  its  persistent  and  patient  efforts. 


Singing,  which  is  one  of  the  most  beneficial  and  exhilarat- 
ing pastimes  for  children,  is  not  sufficiently  indulged  in.  It 
is  singularly  difficult  to  induce  the  children  in  Sunday-school 
to  sing  out  freely,  and  when  there  are  strangers  present  the 
little  ones  are  almost  sure  to  be  seized  with  a  shyness  that 
makes  them  dumb.  Much  of  this  shyness  would  be  over- 
come if  in  the  family  there  was  a  practice  of  singing  to- 
gether in  the  evening.  Pianos  are  everywhere,  and  almost 
all  mothers  can  play  enough  to  manage  a  few  simple  melo- 
dies. A  "  Good-night  song "  before  separating  would  be 
found  to  soothe  away  some  of  the  cares  and  vexations  of 
the  day,  and  the  children  would  be  more  ready  to  go  peace- 
fully to  bed,  their  minds  having  been  calmed  and  their  nerves 
quieted  by  the  music. 


The  Flower  of  Innocence 

"  Let  us  preserve  to  women,"  says  Michelet, 
"  this  velvet  down  of  the  soul."  He  spoke  for  the 
generation  that  is  past;  the  delicate,  shrinking 
women  who  feared  to  behold  any  fact  in  its  naked 
simplicity,  and  would  have  it  adorned  with  all  the 
elaborate  trimmings  of  a  hyperbolical  imagination; 
who  yet  retained,  underneath  this  mien  of  drooped 
eyes  and  flushing  cheeks,  a  strong  and  rude  curios- 
ity for  the  mysteries  they  made  believe  ignore. 
The  gentle,  fanciful  historian  of  woman's  heart  had 
the  instinct  to  protect  the  innate  sense  of  purity 
and  refinement  he  admired  from  the  clumsy  at- 
tacks even  of  women  themselves.  He  would  have 
had  them  keep  always  the  bloom  of  the  peach,  the 
ineffable  fragrance  of  the  briar-rose,  that  uplifts  its 
modest  head  in  the  depths  of  some  solitary  wood 
human  foot  has  never  trampled. 

There  is  something  so  exquisitely  beautiful  in 
innocence  that  even  those  who  deem  it  a  duty  toi' 
be  wise  relinquish  the  privilege  of  their  ignorance 
with  a  sigh.  This  is  the  age — perhaps  not  of  wis- 
dom— let  us  say,  of  knowledge.  Women  have  cast 
down  their  idol  of  clay  and  set  up  a  god  of  marble, 

xo6 


The  Flower  of  Innocence  107 

lofty  of  brow,  grand  of  proportion.  They  worship 
intellect.  It  is  a  noble  deity,  bearing-  in  the  power- 
ful right  hand  all  possibilities  of  progress,  except- 
ing one — a  tiny  blossom,  frail  and  lovely,  yet  with 
the  potency  of  exhaling  an  everlasting  perfume 
from  its  deep  heart.  This  flower  of  innocence  lies 
at  the  feet  of  the  marble  god.  His  ambitious  eyes 
do  not  see  it,  and  his  votaries  have  forgotten  its 
value  in  the  rush  for  laurel,  for  jewelled  diadems; 
sometimes,  it  may  be,  they  are  constrained  to  for- 
get it,  in  their  struggle  for  bread. 

Clasped  in  the  infant's  tiny  hands,  reflecting 
from  its  deeply  concealed  light  a  roseate  glow  that 
tinges  the  youthful  face  with  that  mysterious  film 
that  seems  angelical,  innocence  ever  reappears  in 
a  world  of  suffering.  It  comes  with  the  child;  his 
birthright.  Too  often  it  is  bartered  away  for  a 
mess  of  potage;  and  far  oftener  it  is  stolen  from 
him  by  coarse  and  ruthless  hands,  belonging  to 
those  who  are  his  sworn  protectors.  This  need 
not  be.  The  profane  ravage  is  without  excuse. 
For  innocence  is  not  ignorance  of  rig'ht,  but  igno- 
rance of  evil.  It  is  not  fear,  hiding  less  from  out- 
side foes  than  from  the  betraying  voice  of  its  own 
guilty  thought,  but  valor,  sweet,  high,  and  self- 
sustained,  going,  as  in  Chaucer's  fair  allegory, 
among  lions  and  taking  no  harm;  encountering 
perils  of  earth  and  of  wicked  men,  and  cowing 


io8  The  Flower  of  Innocence 

them  solely  by  the  light  that  beams  from  its  pure 
eyes. 

The  great  painters  always  put  into  their  chil- 
dren's faces  this  fine  light.  We  see  it  sometimes 
now,  less  often  than  we  should.  The  little  ones 
that  are  growing  up  in  the  broad  glare  of  our  age 
of  knowledge  seem  to  have  exchanged  this  emana- 
tion from  within  for  the  sickly  hue  of  gaslight. 
There  is  a  look  of  prescience,  of  cunning,  of  ex- 
perience on  the  baby  faces.  Is  innocence  coming 
into  the  world  feebler,  that  it  so  soon  dies  ?  Do 
the  mothers  whisper  dark  secrets  to  their  unborn 
children,  that  the  shadow  falls  so  .swiftly  where  all 
should  be  pure  ?  "  Wisdom  lingers  " — lingers 
long,  indeed,  if  it  is  the  mother's  knowledge  of 
good  and  evil  that  debauches  her  infant.  She  has 
dwelt  too  intimately  with  sin  and  sorrow  if  the 
baby  knows  not  how  to  smile.  This  "  velvet  down 
of  the  soul  "  must  not  be  brushed  away  from  her 
if  she  would  transmit  unimpaired  the  most  delicate 
and  lovely  heritage  that  a  woman  can  give  to  her 
child. 

In  all  revolutionary  periods  stern  necessity 
builds  its  solid  structures  on  the  ruins  of  the  beau- 
tiful. But  the  victim  is  not  wantonly  killed,  only 
bidden  to  remove  out  of  sight  and  out  of  the  way. 
She  creeps  forth  in  good  time  and  twines  her  arms 
about  her  conqueror,  and  with  added  loveliness 


The  Flower  of  Innocence  109 

gained  from  rest,  shines  in  his  softened  gaze,  the 
glorified  creation  of  his  dawning  wish.  We  are 
passing  through  one  of  the  worst  and  it  may  be 
the  most  necessary  social  revolutions  that  ever 
devastated  homes  and  stifled  the  sweet  and  natu- 
ral emotions  of  the  human  heart.  It  is  "  the 
woman's  age,"  the  great  cry  goes  ringing  through 
the  world,  and  the  men  bow  half  shamefacedly, 
half  cynically,  yielding  a  little  to  the  tide,  but  see- 
,  ing  what  the  women  dare  not  pause  to  see,  the 
'1  flowers  being  swept  away,  and  the  barren  rocks 
being  exposed  on  the  deserted  shore. 

This  revolution,  so  sadly  necessary,  will  pass 
soon,  having  pressed  to  a  solution  some  problems 
that  have  tormented  active  minds  and  embittered 
anxious  hearts.  What  shall  we  have  gained  ?  A 
bed-rock  foundation  on  which  to  build  up  a  higher, 
finer  civilization.  But  unless  we  would  have  this 
building  over-long  deferred,  it  will  be  wisdom  to 
avoid  the  reckless  destruction  of  material  already 
here,  and  which  we  shall  need  to  use  again.  After 
the  establishment  of  civil  and  social  government 
upon  the  lofty  and  simple  principle  of  equity,  what 
are  to  be  the  relations  between  men  and  women 
in  this  fair  future  condition  ? 

Doubtless  every  woman  secretly  cherishes  the 

/  dream  of  a  new  and  beautiful  chivalry;   a  state  of 

/    refinement  when  the  love  of  man  for  woman  and 


1 10  The  Flower  of  Innocence 


of  her  for  him  will  be  founded  upon  the  deepest 
mutual  respect  and  admiration.  It  is  an  enticing 
vision;  one  that  possibly  may  become  a  reality. 
But  it  will  never  come  about  through  the  icono- 
clastic efiforts  of  the  utilitarian.  The  talk  is  all  of 
"  rights,"  and  of  "  progress,"  and  of  "  intellect  "  ; 
but  were  Macaulay  here,  were  Montaigne  looking 
on,  these  astute  historians  might  exclaim,  "  They 
mean  license  when  they  cry  '  liberty  '  "  ; — "  They 
mean  sentiment  when  th^y  talk  of  facts."  It  is 
upon  sentiment,  refined  and  beautified,  but  still  the 
same  in  kind,  that  the  new  social  relation  must 
build,  if  at  all.  Reason  alone  furnishes  no  atmos- 
phere for  a  home. 

There  is  much  to  be  reprobated  in  the  senti- 
ment of  the  present  day,  but  for  its  demoralization, 
women  as  well  as  men  are  to  blame.  They  have 
'been  careless  of  the  flowers  in  their  ambitious 
march.  Yet  if  these  trampled  flowers  die — if  the 
spark  of  tender  regard  for  the  delicacy  of  women 
as  women,  expires  in  the  breasts  of  those  who  are 
sometimes,  it  must  be  confessed,  ''  ruthless  ty- 
rants," but  oftener  forbearing  protectors — women 
will  have  cause  to  mourn  long  and  bitterly  the  de- 
struction of  the  sole  principle  that  can  make  life 
beautiful  and  noble,  and  to  regret  the  day  when 
they  exchanged  for  faulty  flesh  and  blood  the  mar- 
ble idol,  mind. 


The  Flower  of  Innocence  1 1 1 

To  bring  this  matter  closely  home,  let  us  con- 
sider the  attitude  we  have  permitted  to  be 
assumed  in  our  households  of  boys  and  girls. 
The  new  civilization  demands  respect  for  girls, 
consideration  for  them,  reverence  for  them  as 
the  future  mothers  and  counsellors  and  com- 
panions of  men.  But  in  shame  of  the  old  sexual 
I  servitude,  when  the  little  sister  used  to  wait  peni- 
i  tentially  upon  her  brother,  we  have  come  to  en- 
j  courage  a  certain  aggressive  bearing  on  the  part 
of  our  baby  daughters.  They  are  the  "  equals  "  of 
their  brothers,  they  are  not  to  give  way;  they  are 
to  exercise,  to  romp,  to  wrestle,  in  pursuance  of 
their  inborn  right.  The  boys  are  freed  from  any 
duty  of  attendance  or  of  special  courtesy;  they  are 
only  required  to  respect  the  prowess,  mental  and 
physical,  of  this  so-called  weaker  sex.  Is  the  re- 
sult satisfactory  ?  On  the  contrary,  from  every 
quarter  rises  the  cry  on  the  one  hand  of  the  rude- 
ness and  indifference  of  the  masculine  being  and 
on  the  other  of  the  aggressiveness  and  boldness  of 
the  feminine  being.  The  relations  are  not  happy 
between  the  sexes.  They  complain  more  and  more 
loudly,  and  there  seems  more  and  more  to  com- 
plain of.  It  is  natural  to  expect  it.  The  amenities 
are  forgotten,  forbearance  despised,  and  open  war- 
•fare  declared. 

Yet  all  this  ferment  is  supposed  to  be  necessary 


112  The  Flower  of  Innocence 

to  the  settling  down  of  the  turbulent  elements  into 
happy  conditions  of  peace.  Perhaps  a  certain 
amount  was  necessary,  but  let  us  hasten  to  put  a 
stop  to  the  wasteful  struggle  before  it  has  gone  to 
a  fatal  extent.  The  mind  and  body  of  our  little 
daughter  are  not  all;  let  her  develop  both  to  the 
limit  of  her  ability,  but  let  us  care  also  for  that  deli- 
cate, gracious  faculty  which  is  her  most  precious 
possession — her  womanhood.  The  rough  and  fa- 
miliar contact  with  her  boy  -comrades  brushes  away 
"  the  velvet  down  of  the  soul."  Can  she  not  learn 
with  them,  play  with  them,  and  yet  maintain,  in 
the  midst  of  this  frank  and  friendly  intercourse,  the 
gentleness,  the  sweetness,  and  the  tact  which  prop- 
erly belong  to  her  sex  ? 

And  the  boy — can  he  not  be  encouraged  to  de- 
velop what  still  exists  as  a  germ  in  the  soul  of  every 
manly  being,  reverence  and  affection  for  his  sister 
and  his  friend,  because  she  is  a  little  woman  and  a 
little  lady  ?  The  sweet,  old-fashioned  words,  ladie 
and  gentleman  have  fallen  into  disuse  since  their 
primitive  meaning  has  been  forgotten,  but  let  us 
trust  that  what  they  represented  will  reappear.  Not 
until  the  little  boys  and  girls  who  mingle  everywhere 
according  to  our  liberal  notions,  so  merrily  and 
hoidenishly,  are  trained  again,  not  as  in  the  olden 
time  when  one  was  to  be  servant  to  the  other,  but 
in  the  enlightened  view  of  a  more  aspiring  civiliza- 


The  Flower  of  Innocence  113 

tion,  to  serve  each  other  mutually,  graciously,  and 
in  distinct  recollection  of  the  true  and  essential  dif- 
ferences nature  has  implanted  in  them,  can  the  fair 
dawn  of  the  looked-for  social  millennium  color  the 
skies  of  our  land. 


A  very  unpleasing  trait  in  a  child  and  one  that  occasions 
frequent  reprimands  is  a  habit  of  self-excuse.  Some  chil- 
dren are  so  ready  and  fertile  in  reply  that  it  becomes  almost 
impossible  to  convict  them  of  error.  They  have  to  be 
"  pinned  down,"  as  it  were,  and  even  then  show  a  surprising 
ingenuity  in  making  explanations,  which,  without  being  pre- 
cisely untrue,  are  a  turning  of  points  in  their  own  favor. 
When  a  child  shows  this  disposition  the  right  plan  is  not  to 
blame  him  directly,  but  manage  so  that  when  he  is  in  the 
wrong  circumstances  will  convict  him.  The  logic  of  facts 
is  incontrovertible,  and  arouses  no  feeling  of  animosity 
toward  persons.  It  is  also  desirable  to  refrain  from  that 
common  temptation — "  driving  a  fault  home."  Children  do 
not  like  the  valley  of  humiliation  any  better  than  we  do 
ourselves,  and  do  not  derive  any  benefit  to  their  character 
from  being  forced  into  it.  A  look,  half-smiling,  half- 
accusing,  is  efficacious;  but  words  arouse  the  defensive  in- 
stinct and  lead  to  excuses. 


Growth  in  Self-Government 

\  Our  children  are  altogether  too  grave  and 
worldy-wise.  They  have  a  curious,  false  shame 
about  being  amused,  as  if  they  thereby  laid  them- 
selves liable  to  criticism.  Scarcely  ever  is  seen, 
among  those  who  are  at  play,  a  countenance  ex- 
pressing thorough,  spontaneous  enjoyment.  There 
is  a  reservation  somewhere,  a  latent  tendency  to 
contract  the  brow,  or  draw  down  the  corners  of 
the  mouth  at  the  least  temptation.  There  are 
many  causes  for  this  unnatural  mental  attitude. 
Civilized  life  has  multitudinous  pricks  for  the  ten- 
der nerves  of  youth. 

One  fault  that  some  parents  will  honestly  ad- 
mit, is  the  habit  they  have  of  discussing  in  a 
cynical  way,  the  defects  of  institutions,  of  our  so- 
cial customs,  and  particularly  the  failings  of  indi- 
viduals, in  the  presence  of  these  as  yet  unsullied 
little  listeners.  They  hear  that  the  government  is 
in  the  hands  of  corrupt  politicians,  that  the  school 
board  is  composed  of  inefificient  persons,  that  vice 
and  poverty  are  increasing,  and  worse  than  all,  that 
the  uncle  John  and  aunt  Louisa,  whom  they  love 

115 


ii6        Growth  in  Self-Government 

with  disinterested  affection,  are  mean  and  selfish 
and  ought  to  act  very  differently  by  their  family. 

What  confusion  reigns  in  the  mind  of  the  child 
who  is  cautioned  to  be  exceedingly  polite  and  cor- 
dial to  the  person  for  whom,  if  what  is  alleged  of 
him  is  true,  he  cannot  help  having  a  profound  con- 
tempt !  How  depressed  he  feels  as,  after  the  break- 
fast-table annihilation  of  society,  he  goes  forth  to 
meet  the  elders  in  whom  he  no  longer  believes,  and 
the  young  companions  in  whom  he  is  forced  to  see 
embryo  sharpers  and  enemies  !  Such  experiences 
are  very  common,  and  one  can  scarcely  estimate 
the  harm  that  is  done  by  this  inoculation  of  pes- 
simism. 

One  of  the  rights  of  a  child  is  to  have  his  moral 
nature  developed.  There  is  danger  that  with  the 
children  of  this  generation  this  matter  will  be  over- 
looked. When  the  influence  of  churches,  Sunday- 
schools,  and  the  clergy  was  more  stringent  and 
extended  to  the  details  of  conduct,  children  were 
terrorized  into  an  outward  appearance  of  propriety 
and  their  motives  and  wishes  were  the  subject  of 
inquisitorial  notice  also.  It  went  hard  with  the 
possessor  of  "  an  unsanctified  spirit."  There  was 
no  liberty  of  conscience,  no  room  for  choice:  he 
must  be  good  after  the  set  pattern,  whether  his 
inclinations  were  in  accordance  with  it  or  not. 

But  the  child  of  our  period  has  benefited  by  all 


Growth  in  Self-Government        1 1 7 

the  improved  conditions  of  modern  life.  He 
thinks,  talks,  acts  from  the  impulse  of  self-direction 
much  more  than  his  parents  would  have  been  per- 
mitted to  do.  Unquestionably  this  individualized 
creature  is  the  inevitable  product  of  a  higher  civili- 
zation. He  comes  just  as  the  world  needs  him  and 
he  will  do  his  work.  But  it  is  with  a  curious  and 
anxious  interest  that  we  watch  the  unfolding  of 
this  complex  being  who  is  to  be  intrusted  with  the 
management  of  a  more  wonderful  and  dangerous 
machinery  than  the  w^orld  has  ever  afforded  to  an}'- 
previous  generation.  He  may  have  the  needed 
mental  and  physical  abilities,  the  energy,  the  acu- 
men, but  is  there  not  something  else  that  he  may 
not  possess  ?     Will  he  have  humanity  ? 

In  removing  the  outward  restraints  from  the 
consciences  of  men  and  allowing  each  one  to  be- 
come the  judge  of  his  own  religious  necessities  we 
have  only  followed  the  essential  bias  of  the  times. 
Liberalism  has  by  no  means  reached  its  terminus. 
The  tendency  is  for  a  man  to  become  a  completely 
self-governed  being,  controlled  by  no  law  except 
his  own  sense  of  right.  But  what  an  immense  ob- 
ligation this  liberty  imposes  !  How  symmetrical 
and  complete  must  be  the  moral  nature  of  an  indi- 
vidual who  can  conduct  his  life  as  he  sees  fit,  and  is 
responsible  to  no  one  but  that  inward  lawgiver 
which  is  the  voice  of  God  in  his  own  soul.     When 


I  I  8        Growth  in  Self-Government 

force  no  longer  exists  what  more  subtle  and  finer 
influence  is  to  replace  it  ?  There  is  but  one:  that 
divine  power  toward  which  the  race  has  been  lifting 
the  glance  of  longing  and  aspiration  through  all 
preceding  ages — love. 

Man  will  be  fit  for  self-government  only  when 
he  is  as  stringently  bound  by  his  own  sense  of  ob- 
ligation to  his  neighbor  as  any  civil  or  ecclesias- 
tical law  could  bind  him.  When  he  has  achieved  a 
feeling  of  humanity  he  will  be  safely  free.  This, 
then,  is  the  most  important  part  of  all  education: 
developing  in  the  child  a  feeling  of  his  obligations 
to  others,  teaching  him  to  be  unselfish  in  heart  and 
not  only  in  conduct.  Let  us  impress  upon  him 
anew,  and  in  a  more  gracious  sense  than  the  idea 
obtained  once,  that  "  noblesse  oblige."  The  obli- 
gation of  being  a  man  and  a  woman,  bound  to 
help  and  love  all  other  men  and  women,  is  one  that 
is  far  deeper  than  the  obligation  of  a  caste.  The 
new  civilization  does  away  with  artificial  and  false 
distinctions,  and  opens  wide  all  its  portals  to  moral 
worth.  This  is  the  consummation  of  human  de- 
velopment, as  yet  only  an  ideal,  carried  out  feebly 
and  hesitatingly  by  the  most  thoughtful  and  liberal 
among  us.  But  if  we  cannot  achieve  it  for  our- 
selves, let  us  bear  it  in  mind  and  help  to  realize  it 
for  our  children. 


The  little  girl  who,  upon  being  told  that  she  was  too  small 
to  do  what  she  wanted,  and  replied,  "  Yes,  I  suffer  a 
great  deal  from  that  !  " — voiced  a  general  complaint  of  child- 
hood. Any  one  who  has  made  a  study  of  physics  realizes 
the  great  diilficulty  there  is  in  conceiving  the  existence  of 
atoms.  We  cannot  get  our  minds  down  to  these  micro- 
scopic objects;  and  yet,  wonderful  to  know,  in  an  invisible 
particle  of  albumen  exists,  in  minute  form,  the  powers  and 
qualities  that  develop  into  impulses  that  move  the  world. 
There  is  a  curious  egotism  in  mere  bulk.  Yet,  if  the  child 
could  express  himself,  he  would  tell  us  that  every  passion, 
every  capacity,  and  every  motive,  that  we  account  so  im- 
portant in  ourselves,  lives  in  his  own  small  nature,  and  is  a 
source  of  joy  and  suffering  to  him,  just  as  our  own  feelings 
are  to  us.  Size  is  only  a  relative  term,  and  what  is  small 
in  our  opinion  may  be  gigantic  to  the  object  itself. 


The  Right  to  be  Understood 

In  attempting  to  carry  out  any  reform,  from  the 
greatest  to  the  least,  people  are  commonly  impa- 
tient to  see  immediate  results.  If  the  machinery 
they  have  agreed  to  try  does  not  work  perfectly  at 
first,  they  deride  the  inventor  and  cast  it  aside  as 
useless;  if  an  idea  which  is  manifestly  a  correct  one 
fails  to  bear  the  fruit  of  full  performance,  they  lose 
faith  in  it  and  talk  of  "  theories  in  the  air."  It  is 
especially  so  with  educational  reforms,  which  cost 
much  trouble  and  seem  most  slow  in  good  results. 

It  takes  more  time  to  grow  a  man  than  to  make 
a  garden,  and  it  is  far  easier  to  straighten  out  a 
crooked  shoot  which  is  amenable  to  mechanical 
appliances  than  to  correct  the  evil  tendencies  of  a 
young  human  being  whose  faults  have  been  grow- 
ing for  centuries  and  have  come  down  to  him  with 
the  stubborn  tenacity  of  life  incident  to  an  hered- 
itary instinct.  The  best  that  can  be  done  for  him 
may  be  too  little;  but  less  than  the  best  might 
work  his  ruin.  Does  it  disprove  the  science  of 
medicine  that  it  cannot  cure  some  inherited  dis- 
eases  or  change   organic  deformities   into   sym- 

120 


The  Right  to  be  Understood       121 

metry  ?  Then  why  should  theories  of  discipHne 
which  are  ideally  good  be  brought  into  disfavor 
because  in  cases  of  wrong  application,  and  of  too 
late  application,  they  do  not  operate  satisfactorily  ? 
Alterative  measures  cannot  c'hange,  however 
much  they  may  modify,  original  form;  and  all 
methods  of  training  are  but  alterative  measures. 
We  must  use  them  faithfully,  but  we  should  not  be 
unduly  disappointed  if  there  are  phases  of  charac- 
ter which  defy  our  power  of  government.  The 
only  true  education  begins  far,  far  back  of  the 
newly  born  child;  and  if  he  enters  into  life  morally 
misshapen,  what  can  we  do  but  employ  such  means 
as  lie  in  us  to  palliate,  while  recognizing  our  in- 
ability to  cope  with,  the  fundamental  disorder  ? 
Many  parents,  coming  to  a  sense  that  their  chil- 
dren are  unruly  and  troublesome,  that  they  are 
"  growing  up  to  be  a  terror  to  the  community," 
set  to  work  vigorously  to  change  their  system  of 
management,  and,  without  inquiry  into  causes, 
with  little  knowledge  of  human  nature  and  the  ap- 
plication of  physiology  and  psychology  to  the 
training  of  human  beings,  they  "  do  something  " 
purely,  as  it  seems,  for  the  sake  of  doing  something, 
and  after  a  little  while  fall  back  into  lethargic  tol- 
erance of  what  they  have  failed  to  change,  saying: 
"  Here  is  a  child  who  defies  all  efforts  to  reform 
him  and  who  will  have  his  own  way  despite  every- 


122       The  Right  to  be  Understood 

thing."  And  the  child,  thereupon,  is  allowed  to 
have  "  his  own  way,"  to  his  lasting  detriment. 

The  (jiiestion  arises  as  to  what  is  "  one's  own 
way  "  and  whether  any  of  us  ever  do  have  it.  We 
are  worked  upon  by  different  internal  forces  of  mo- 
tive and  desire  which  the  most  intelligent  among 
us  cannot  fully  understand.  The  more  we  do  un- 
derstand them  the  greater  is  our  power  of  self- 
control  and  the  ability  to  mould  others.  To  a 
gifted  few  is  given  something  resembling  a  divine 
insight  into  motive.  Melancthon  had  it;  John 
Chrysostom  had  it;  Friedrich  Froebel  had  it.  The 
sympathetic  divination  of  the  best  that  dwells  in 
any  soul  is  like  a  gentle,  nurturing  rain  in  its  power 
to  develop  the  seeds  of  virtue.  In  the  worst  nature 
there  are  undeveloped  possibilities  of  everything 
good;  but  it  needs  genius  to  bring  it  forth.  If  a 
teacher  has  wisdom  enough,  patience  enough,  and 
love  enough,  he  can  perform  the  miracle  of  keep- 
ing down  in  his  pupil  tendencies  that  have  the 
strength  of  lions,  and  encouraging  germs  of  virtue 
almost  too  feeble  to  come  up  to  the  light.  But  to 
lesser  minds  and  lesser  hearts  failure  is  inevitable 
in  the  attempt  to  train  natures  morally  defective. 

"  If  you  should  have  a  dozen  children,  no  two 
of  them  would  be  alike  in  disposition,"  observed 
an  experienced  matron  to  a  young  mother  who 
was   exclaiming  over  the   radical   differences   be- 


The  Right  to  be  Understood        123 

tween  her  two  boys.  This  admission  is  one  be- 
longing to  the  liberal  tendency  of  our  modern 
time.  The  idea  that  a  family  of  children  resemble 
pease  in  a  pod,  and  are  to  be  treated  alike,  is  being 
replaced  by  the  more  scientific  opinion  that  there 
are  natural  differences  which  must  be  considered. 
Modern  children  are  not  to  be  managed  in  groups. 
It  is  necessary  to  deal  with  them  separately.  This 
requires  more  time,  more  care,  more  intelligence 
than  the  old  way;  it  requires  special  preparation 
for  parenthood  and  the  cultivation  of  good  quali- 
ties in  the  guardians  who  are  to  exercise  discrim- 
inating government.  The  nineteenth  centurv^ 
makes  large  demands  of  us,  and  nowhere  greater 
than  in  its  demand  for  superior  character. 

The  existing  race  is  of  a  higher  type  than  pre- 
vious ones.  The  succeeding  one  ought  to  be 
higher  still.  It  is  worth  while  to  take  trouble  to 
secure  it.  In  fact,  the  obligation  is  immutable. 
It  may  not  have  been  of  our  choice  or  seeking,  but 
it  is  here  and  we  must  face  it.  Our  children  are 
individuals  and  bear  themselves  vigorously  in  the 
direction  toward  which  nature  impels  them.  If  we 
are  to  be  helpers,  not  hinderances,  to  their  proper 
development,  we  must  aid  them  to  become  com- 
pletely and  successfully  that  which  they  will  be- 
come anyway  without  us;  though,  perhaps,  incom- 
pletely  and    unhappily.      If   we    enter   into    this 


I  24       The  Right  to  be  Understood 

relation  with  good  will  and  good  humor  we  will 
find  many  compensations  by  the  way  for  our 
trouble.  For  nothing  is  more  delightful  than  to 
have  secured  a  free  intimacy  with  our  children. 
When  the  interchange  of  mutual  kind  offices  is  the 
outcome  of  affection  instead  of  sense  of  duty,  there 
is  a  grace  and  joy  in  doing  and  giving  that  those 
whose  acts  are  perfunctory  never  know. 

Children  have  a  right  to  be  understood.  And 
to  do  this  it  is  necessary  to  study  them,  with  at 
least  as  much  pains  as  we  bestow  upon  the  study  of 
the  arts  and  sciences,  the  accomplishments,  and 
domestic  concerns  and  business  enterprises  which 
so  largely  engross  our  minds  and  our  time.  These 
are  after  all  only  means  and  ways  of  living,  but 
children  are  life  itself.  The  study  of  child  nature 
may  sometime  attain  to  the  dignity  of  being  called 
a  science,  perchance  the  noblest,  most  important 
of  them  all. 


People  who  judge  superficially  say  that  childhood  is  the 
light-hearted  period  of  life,  that  children  do  not  feel  deeply. 
But  those  who  have  entered  into  the  feelings  of  these  little 
ones  and  tried  to  understand  them,  know  that  they  are  not 
superficial.  It  is  a  question  whether  they  are  not  more  sub- 
jective than  their  elders.  If  their  curiosity  were  not  so 
strong,  their  awe  would  prevent  their  speaking  upon  grave 
subjects.  But,  although  they  speak,  they  often  give  an  im- 
pression of  levity  which  they  are  far  from  feeling.  They 
have  no  language  for  thoughts,  because  that  necessarily 
comes  later  in  life,  and  so  they  are  thrown  back  upon  the 
simple  vocabulary  that  deals  with  objects,  and  are  obliged 
to  talk  as  materialists  of  the  most  delicate  and  airy  fancies 
that  dwell  in  their  minds.  We  do  not  know  half  the  beauty 
and  poetry  of  a  child's  mind,  or  we  would  never  treat  lightly 
his  serious  words  and  sober  ideas,  however  queerly  ex- 
pressed. 


An   Up-hill  Journey 

The  opinion  is  rather  general  among  parents 
that  their  children  are  crowded  with  school  work; 
that  too  much  is  required  of  them  by  their  teach- 
ers, and  that  the  standard  is  one  to  which  only  the 
pupil  of  exceptional  industry  finds  it  possible  to 
conform.  The  methods  pursued  in  the  public 
schools  are  far  from  perfect;  doubtless,  the  de- 
mands are  sometimes  too  severe,  and  the  boy  or 
girl  who  is  even  slightly  incapable,  or  is  of  a  deli- 
cate constitution,  is  hard  pressed  to  keep  up  with 
the  rest. 

But  much  of  this  pressure  of  work  is  only  in 

appearance.      The  constantly  increasing  tendency 

of  the  last  twenty  years  has  been  toward  rendering 

school  work  easier  for  the  children,  and  not  only 

easier,  but  interesting.     There  is  real  anxiety  lest 

the  child  should  be  bored  by  his  work;  should  find 

the  hours  spent  in  the  classroom  dull  and  tedious. 

There   is   every   device   to    attract   his   fancy   and 

stimulate  his  flagging  attention,  and  listlessness  is 

now  generally  attributed  to   some  defect  in   the 

teacher  or  in  his  methods,  rather  than  to  indolence 

or  incapacity  of  the  pupil. 

126 


An  Up-hill  Journey  127 

The  middle-aged  men  and  women  of  the  present 
generation  can  look  back  to  the  days  when  they 
travelled  over  muddy,  impaved  roads  to  the  village 
schoolhouse,  where  boys  and  girls  came  together 
in  the  morning  from  their  widely  separated  homes 
to  spend  eight  or  nine  hours  under  the  care  of  a 
single  teacher,  who  taught  them  according  to  his 
own  sweet  will,  without  regard  to  their  tastes  or 
preferences.  Learning  in  those  days  was  consid- 
ered a  task,  and  the  difficulties  were  believed  to  be 
good  for  children.  There  was  far  less  method,  and 
less  military  precision;  classes  were  seldom  graded, 
and  rote-learning  was  held  to  be  necessary. 

We  have  improved  greatly  upon  that;  the  mem- 
ory is  not  now  taxed  to  the  injury  of  the  under- 
standing, and  the  repetition  of  long  Hsts  of  dates 
and  facts  is  not  part  of  the  day's  duty.  The  child  is 
encouraged  to  observe,  to  reason  and  to  think  for 
himself,  and  his  own  crude  and  hesitating  expres- 
sions of  "  the  idea  "  in  his  lesson  are  accepted  as 
an  equivalent  for  the  author's  language.  Doubt- 
less mental  development  is  aided  by  modern  meth- 
ods more  than  it  was  by  the  sterner  discipline  of 
the  old-fashioned  teaching.  There  is  more  readi- 
ness, more  general  information  among  school- 
children now  than  was  commonly  the  case  a  quar- 
ter of  a  century  ago.  The  modern  child  is 
"  bright,"  quick-witted,  observant,  and  inclined  to 


128  An  Up-hill  Journey 

be  argumentative;  wanting  to  have  everything 
proven  to  his  satisfaction,  and  keenly  aHve  to  the 
motif  of  the  hour,  that  learning  is  to  be  acquired 
with  the  least  amount  of  pains  and  trouble. 

Yet  after  a  day  passed  in  the  society  of  half 
a  dozen  charming  children,  fresh  from  their  ob- 
ject-lessons and  their  lecture-lessons  and  pro- 
gressive exercises,  the  critical  friend  who  looks 
beneath  brilliant  appearances  observes  some  de- 
fects of  character  and  some  deficiencies  of  edu- 
cation which  used  not  to  exist  to  the  same  extent 
in  the  sturdier,  if  perhaps  duller,  little  boys  and 
girls  who  studied  after  the  regulation  fashion  of 
the  ancient  regime.  There  is  a  lack  of  exact- 
ness, of  sound  and  thorough  training  in  the  ele- 
mentary branches  at  present,  due  to  our  wish  to 
save  children,  as  far  as  we  can,  from  hard  work. 
Certainly  there  was  an  unnecessary  amount  of 
drilling  and  routine  labor  in  the  spelling  and 
grammar  classes,  for  instance,  of  twenty-five  years 
ago;  but  that  labor  wrought  the  happy  result  of 
teaching  pupils  to  spell  and  write  and  speak  the 
English  language  with  accuracy  and  precision. 

Only  the  learning  that  we  have  fought  for  and 
conquered  stays  with  us.  A  certain  amount  of 
plodding  is  essential  to  vigor  of  character.  Is  not 
the  modern  child  less  rugged  and  persistent  than 
his  grandfather  was  ?    Is  he  not  inclined  to  weaken 


An  Up-hill  Journey  i  29 

before  difficulties,  and  think  that  what  is  trouble- 
some is  not  worth  doing  ?  Courage  and  persist- 
ence are  the  characteristics  of  pioneers,  and  it  is 
sometimes  said  that  the  present  generation  has  less 
need  of  these  qualities  than  the  men  who  fought 
against  the  elements  in  a  new,  wild  country.  But 
certainly  life  is  not  any  easier  now  than  it  was  three 
centuries  ago;  there  is  need  of  sinew  and  tough- 
ness, of  energy  and  indomitable  resolution,  if  one 
would  succeed  in  any  career,  or  make  his  life  worth 
anything  to  the  world. 

A  child  learns  to  exert  himself  or  to  be  indolent 
very  early.  The  first  impetus  is  given  in  the  nurs- 
ery, but  another  impulse  comes  with  that  second 
great  stage  of  life,  the  entrance  into  school.  There 
is  not  so  great  a  demarcation  between  infancy 
and  childhood  now,  since  learning  begins  in  the 
kindergarten  and  proceeds  through  easy  and  al- 
most imperceptible  stages  up  to  the  college.  The 
teacher  needs  both  tact  and  decision  to  enable  him 
to  begin  the  real  discipline  of  his  pupil's  mental 
faculties  at  the  right  time,  and  not  prolong  bab)'-- 
hood  into  the  period  when  work  should  be  taken 
up  in  serious  earnest.  Learning  ought  to  be  made 
agreeable,  for  anything  which  serves  to  keep  the 
pupil's  mind  in  a  happy  condition  invigorates  the 
tone  of  his  entire  system  and  makes  it  easier  for 
him  to  exert  himself.     But  it  must  not  be  forgot- 


130  An  Up-hill  Journey 

ten  that  every  new  effort  of  the  mind  is,  to  a  certain 
extent,  essentially  painful.  The  disajf^reeable  stage 
of  a  labor  may  not  be  in  the  beginning,  but  it  comes 
when  some  one  of  the  faculties,  either  the  memory, 
or  the  understanding,  or  the  will,  is  called  upon  to 
make  a  new  and  decided  effort.  This  is  the  test 
period,  and  character  here  either  weakens  or 
toughens,  accordingly  as  it  gives  up  or  fights  the 
battle  out  and  conquers. 

We  cannot  save  our  children  this  pain,  and  we 
ought  not  to  do  so.  Teachers  should  not  help 
their  pupils  over  difTficulties  too  often,  else  they 
will  fall  into  the  mental  habit  of  deferring  al! 
troubles  to  a  stronger  and  more  indomitable  will. 
And  parents  should  not  pity  their  children  for  the 
necessity  of  working  hard  and  even  painfully.  All 
experienced  educators  recognize  the  necessity  of 
painful  efforts  in  the  beginning  of  mental  labors, 
but  these  periods  pass,  giving  place  to  delightful 
seasons  of  exhilaration,  and  the  young  learner  is 
cheered  on  his  path,  and  helped  partially  over  the 
next  painful  period  also,  through  having  his  cour- 
age stimulated.  "  For  courage  is,"  as  Emerson 
says,  "  but  the  memory  of  past  successes." 

The  test  to  apply  to  a  child  to  ascertain  whether 
he  is  studying  too  hard  is  to  observe  whether  he 
can  rebound  quickly  after  a  season  of  application. 
If  he  is  in  good  physical  condition,  he  ought  to 


An  Up-hill  Journey  131 

possess  the  buoyancy  which  will  enable  him  to 
throw  off  all  recollection  of  troublesome  problems 
when  the  time  for  play  and  rest  comes.  A  sharp 
line  ought  to  be  drawn  between  work  and  play. 
The  child  must  lay  down  his  burden  and  forget  its 
existence  sometimes,  or  else  he  will  become  nerv- 
ous and  fretful.  The  ghosts  of  partially  learned 
lessons  must  not  haunt  his  dreams  nor  dog  his  en- 
joyments. A  great  difificulty  with  us  is  that  the 
child  studies  not  too  hard,  but  too  continuously. 

He  dawdles  over  tasks  that  could  be  finished  in 
half  the  time  by  a  robust,  energetic  mind.  Why 
do  we  not  see  to  it  that  our  children  have  blood 
enough  to  supply  the  power  needed  by  their 
brains  ?  A  pale,  sallow  child  should  not  be  re- 
quired to  perform  hard  mental  labor  any  more 
than  ashes  sould  be  expected  to  give  out  heat. 
Make  him  exercise,  make  him  eat,  make  him  sleep, 
make  a  healthy  animal  of  him,  and  then  set  him 
his  lessons,  and  see  how  easily  he  will  master  them. 

Whenever  it  is  practicable  the  child  should  be 
encouraged  to  prepare  such  school  lessons  as  it  is 
necessary  to  study  at  home,  in  the  mornings.  A 
lesson  learned  at  night  cannot  be  learned  without 
doing  violence  to  the  natural  order  of  the  mind's 
activity.  The  natural  period  of  acquisition  is  in 
the  morning.  After  a  period  of  rest  and  recrea- 
tion there  comes  a  second  period  in  the  afternoon 


132  An  Up-hill  Journey 

when  study  may  be  pursued,  the  mind  being  less 
vigorous,  however,  and  in  the  evening  the  flagging 
energies  can  only  be  stimulated  by  the  will.  Have 
the  child  go  to  bed  very  early  and  study  for  an 
hour  before  breakfast,  and  the  result  will  tell  favor- 
ably upon  his  health  and  progress. 


There  is  a  wild  notion  among  us  that  as  soon  as  a  baby 
can  sit  upright  it  is  nice  to  teach  him  certain  little  tricks. 
Some  one  initiates  him  into  the  mysteries  of  "  patty-cake," 
and  shows  him  how  to  "  look  like  papa,"  or  to  stretch  his 
arms  to  show  "  how  much  he  loves  mamma,"  or  something 
else  of  the  sort.  When  he  has  acquired  the  cunning  trick 
every  one  torments  him  to  go  through  it,  until,  if  he  could 
talk,  he  might  say:  "Verily,  a  little  knowledge  is  a  danger- 
ous thing  to  a  baby." 


Innocence  is  Easy  Prey 

Life  is  a  strange  redistribution  of  benefits.  If 
at  any  one  time  something  good  comes  to  us,  we 
discover,  presently,  that  something  else  we  valued 
has  slipped  away.  Often  the  good  thing  is  re- 
placed by  what  is  not  so  good,  or  only  good  in  ap- 
pearance. As  we  advance  in  years  we  learn  to 
doubt  unproved  blessings  and  prefer  to  hold  fast 
to  those  things  we  know  the  worth  of,  having 
found  by  experience  that  there  is  just  so  much 
store  of  joy  and  comfort  in  the  world  for  any  one 
of  us,  and  that  if  we  have  it  in  one  form  we  canno 
have  it  in  another. 

But  long  before  learning  this  we  will  have  suf- 
fered a  great  succession  of  robberies.  One  canno c 
make  a  fair  trade  until  he  knows  the  worth,  both 
of  the  things  he  bargains  for  and  of  the  thing  he 
offers  in  exchange.  The  first  man  who  sold  the 
Koh-i-noor  diamond  took  five  dollars  for  it,  think- 
ing he  had  but  a  pretty  bit  of  glass.  Many  men 
have  parted  with  their  Koh-i-noors  for  a  trifle  of 
lucre.  Ignorant  savages  can  be  cheated  out  of  a 
fortune  by  any  one  who  takes  the  trouble  to  flatter 

134 


Innocence  is  Easy  Prey  135 

their  taste  for  baubles.  A  baby  would  surrender 
to  you  the  title-deeds  of  the  world  for  a  sugar-plum, 
and  as  there  are  many  ignorant  and  innocent 
dupes,  so  there  are  also  many  cheats,  eager  to  take 
an  advantage.  It  seems  cruel  in  nature  to  launch 
her  innocent  fledglings  among  rogues,  who  will 
fleece  them  out  of  their  eyes  before  they  have  be- 
gun even  to  realize  the  boon  of  sight.  But  we  all 
come  into  the  world  thus  helpless  and  unsus- 
picious, and  in  our  early  years  we  are  victimized 
and  deceived  even  by  those  who  are  bound  to  pro- 
tect us. 

Any  reflecting  person  who  studies  for  a  single 
day  the  children  who  pass  under  his  view  in  the 
street,  in  the  parks,  and  in  the  households  cf  his 
friends,  cannot  but  acknowledge  that  the  attempts 
that  are  made  to  deceive  and  delude  them  are  as 
numerous  as  they  are  reprehensible.  Many  per- 
sons seem  to  think  that  the  quickest  and  easiest 
way  to  force  a  child  to  go  along  a  certain  path,  or 
to  do  something  he  objects  to  doing,  is  to  frighten 
him.  They  do  not  rightly  estimate  the  influence 
of  fear  upon  his  tender  sensibilities.  Most  chil- 
dren are  converted  into  cowards  before  they  are 
five  years  old  by  the  threats  and  intimidations  of 
their  guardians  and  nurses.  In  mere  thoughtless- 
ness mothers  themselves  not  seldom  terrorize  a 
baby,  not  reading  rightly  the  dilated  eyes  and  pal- 


136  Innocence  is  Easy  Prey- 

ing  cheeks   which   would   signify   to   a   physician 
great  mental  suffering. 

A  short  time  ago  I  witnessed,  on  the  street,  a 
little  scene  which  amply  corroborates  this  asser- 
tion. A  father  and  mother  were  walking  with  their 
two  children,  one  a  boy  of  three  or  four,  the  other 
a  mere  toddler,  whose  wayward  little  feet  took  him 
out  of  the  direct  path  every  few  minutes.  Now  he 
stopped  to  gaze  at  a  group  of  little  girls  on  a  door- 
step, playing  with  their  dolls,  and  again  he  paused 
to  investigate  a  bright  bit  of  tinsel  lying  on  the 
sidewalk.  The  mother  impatiently  admonished 
him  every  time  one  of  these  interruptions  to  the 
conventional  promenade  occurred,  and  at  length 
as  the  baby  brought  himself  to  a  stand  before  a 
beautiful  large  St.  Bernard  dog,  which  stood  sen- 
tinel at  the  gate  of  a  garden,  and  with  a  child\s 
instinctive  liking  for  animals,  stretched  out  his 
hand  to  touch  the  friendly  creature,  the  woman 
cried  sharply,  "  Come  away,  he'll  cat  you  up  !  " 
The  instant  transformation  in  the  child  was  piti- 
able. Delight  and  expectancy  were  converted  by 
that  single  sentence  into  terror  and  despair.  He 
broke  into  shrieks  and  ran  toward  his  mother,  who, 
half  ashamed,  tried  to  soothe  him  by  taking  back 
her  own  words.  "  No,  he  won't;  stop  crying,  he 
won't  hurt  you  !  "  What  wanton  destruction  of 
a  child's  natural  innocent  fearlessness,  and  what  a 


Innocence  is  Easy  Prey  1 37 

reckless  throwing  away  by  the  mother  of  her  little 
one's  trust  in  her  own  veracity.  Would  he  put 
faith  in  her  word  next  time  ? 

One  of  the  worst  evils  of  forcible  measures  is 
that  there  must  ordinarily  be  a  palliation  of  what  is 
said  or  done  in  the  heat  of  the  first  impulse.  One 
finds  the  consequences  unexpectedly  serious,  mak- 
ing it  necessary  to  modify  rash  assertions  or  miti- 
gate stern  sentences.  Even  cautious,  deliberate 
persons  are  tempted  to  rash  acts  of  which  the  re- 
pentance is  inevitable,  but  an  emotional,  impulsive 
parent  strews  his  daily  path  with  sparks  of  temper 
and  showers  of  regret. 

A  large  proportion  of  the  commands  given  to 
children  are  meaningless.  They  are  uttered  me- 
chanically and  without  reflection.  Yesterday  we 
saw  a  Httle  boy,  with  a  bright,  happy  face,  standing 
on  the  sidewalk  beside  the  owner  of  a  beautiful 
team  of  horses,  who  was  evidently  trying  to  estab- 
lish friendly  relations  between  them  and  the  child. 
He  was  charmed  at  being  allowed  to  stroke  their 
glossy  coats,  and  seeing  his  mother  at  the  window 
called  gleefully  to  her  to  see  how  gentle  the  horses 
were.  But  with  a  frown  and  shake  of  the  head, 
she  said,  "  Come  away  from  there,  Georgie  !  "  All 
the  sunshine  went  out  of  the  little  fellow's  face,  as 
he  turned  reluctantly  toward  the  house,  obedient 
to  a  senseless  and  unnecessary  restricting  of  his 


138  Innocence  is  Easy  Prey 

harmless  enjoyment.  Why  come  away  ?  There 
was  evidently  no  reason  for  it.  The  mother  merely 
spoke  unthinkingly,  as  she  probably  spoke  many 
times  every  day,  not  dreaming  that  she  was  be- 
coming, in  the  eyes  of  her  child,  a  meddler  and 
spoil-sport. 

If  we  want  cheerful  obedience  from  our  children 
our  commands  should  have  a  reason  for  being.  We 
should  restrain  ourselves  from  the  constant  inter- 
ference which  it  seems  a  parental  prerogative  10 
exercise.  A  wise  man,  applied  to  by  a  distressed 
mother,  said,  "  Madam,  I  have  found  that  with 
children  it  is  always  best  to  be  a  little  deaf,  a  little 
dumb,  and  a  little  blind."  Were  a  child  suddenly 
to  enter  a  community  of  persons  afflicted  after  this 
manner  he  might  exclaim,  as  Rip  Van  Winkle  ex- 
claimed in  another  connection,  "  What  parents 
they  would  make  !  "  Self-control  would  answer 
the  purposes  sufficiently  well,  but  few  of  us  are 
aware  how  deficient  in  self-control  we  really  are. 


Every  one  resents  being  watched.  From  the  highest 
government  official  down  to  the  kitchen  maid,  surveillance 
is  regarded  as  an  insult.  Instinctively  people  desire  to  be 
trusted  to  do  right  of  their  own  free  will,  and  no  one  is  quite 
himself,  quite  true  to  his  best  impulses,  when  under  sus- 
picion. Children  are  not  only  happier  when  they  are  trusted, 
but  better  than  when  constantly  watched.  Especially  at 
playtime  should  they  be  left  free.  There  is  too  much  regu- 
lating of  play  at  present,  too  much  suggestion  and  inter- 
ference. We  forget  that  spontaneous  play  is  an  education 
to  the  child,  that  even  while  he  should  "  learn  by  doing," 
some  things  that  it  is  highly  desirable  for  him  to  learn  come 
to  him  through  the  untrammelled  activity  of  his  own  imagi- 
nation. 


Childish  Affinities 

Anxious  inquiries  are  made  by  mothers  as  to 
the  duty  of  regulating  a  child's  friendships.  Should 
he  be  allowed  to  choose  his  own  companions,  or 
ought  they  to  be  selected  for  him  ?  In  this,  as  in 
all  other  matters,  individual  needs  must  be  the 
basis  of  rules.  It  is  rather  unfortunate  that  we 
feel  the  need  of  making  rules  about  everything. 
When  houses  were  farther  apart,  and  there  were 
more  playgrounds,  this  matter  of  companionship 
among  the  children  settled  itself.  Neighbors  knew 
one  another,  and  the  boys  and  girls  in  adjacent 
homes  were  supposed  to  become  more  or  less  in- 
timate, of  necessity. 

The  old  village  life  brought  people  closer  to- 
gether, there  was  no  occasion  for  distrust  and  sus- 
picion, because  everybody  knew  who  everybody  else 
was.  One  had  to  have  very  grave  cause  for  dis- 
approval of  a  neighbor's  child  before  his  society 
could  be  tabooed.  Behavior  was  the  standard 
then,  not  social  condition.  Rut  all  that  is  changed. 
Friendship  has  become  commercial.  The  thought 
is  now:    What  can  this  person  do  for  me  ?     We 

140 


Childish  Affinities  141 

think  less  of  personal  qualities  than  of  the  benefits 
to  be  derived  from  the  association.  We  want  our 
child  to  play  with  this  child,  or  with  that  one,  be- 
cause the  acquaintance  is  desirable.  Is  it  not  true  ? 
Would  we  not  "  suffer  long  and  be  kind  "  to  the 
little  son  of  our  millionnaire  friend,  and  shut  the 
doors  upon  the  washerwoman's  little  one  when 
her  first  act  of  mischief  was  committed  ? 

This  is  very  human.  But  since  we  are  moved, 
even  in  the  depths  of  our  best  intentions,  by  mo- 
tives that  cannot  be  called  elevated,  we  should  be 
careful  about  controlling  the  children  in  matters 
where  their  unguided  instinct  is  as  apt  to  be  true  as 
our  poHcy.  Children  are  allured  by  vice — yes,  if 
they  have  not  been  taught  the  beauty  and  pleasant- 
ness of  virtue.  They  are  often  attracted  toward 
evil-doers,  but  not  because  of  their  vicious  acts;  be- 
cause of  some  graceful  and  charming  quality  in 
them,  for  the  sake  of  which  they  forgive  every- 
thing else. 

Bad  companions  are  the  more  dangerous,  that 
pure  and  innocent  children  are  apt  to  see  only  the 
brilliancy  and  fascination  of  an  audacious  nature 
and  not  realize  its  mischievous  propensities. 
Guardians  should  shield  their  charges  from  con- 
tact with  evil  in  every  form,  but  it  can  be  best 
accomplished  by  educating  the  child's  own  judg- 
ment, so  that  he  can  discriminate  for  himself  be- 


142  Childish  Affinities 

tween  good  and  evil  companionship.  It  is  un- 
avoidable that  he  will  be  very  often  out  of  our 
sight  and  beyond  our  supervision.  At  school  he 
will  form  intimacies  of  which  parents  know  noth- 
ing. Circumstances  make  it  necessary  to  trust  the 
child.     It  is  wise,  then,  to  make  him  trustworthy. 

Little  harm  is  to  be  apprehended  from  what  is 
frank  and  open.  Danger  comes  with  the  element 
of  secrecy.  The  first  principle  to  be  instilled  into 
a  child's  mind,  in  regard  to  association  with  other 
children,  is  that  he  is  never  to  listen  to  any  lan- 
guage which  he  would  not  want  to  repeat  to  his 
mother;  never  to  participate  in  any  act  which  he 
would  be  ashamed  to  have  known  at  home.  With 
this  one  restriction  excepted,  children  ought  to  be 
left  free,  in  great  measure,  to  follow  their  own  in- 
stincts in  the  choice  of  their  friends. 

Friendship  means  more  to  children  than  it 
means  to  grown  persons.  It  makes  up  a  larger 
part  of  their  lives,  and  enters  more  fully  into  their 
thoughts  and  plans.  Sensitive,  affectionate  chil- 
dren conceive  ardent  attachments  to  those  of  their 
comrades  who  inspire  admiration  for  some  real  or 
fancied  superiority.  And  unrecognized  by  himself 
there  dwells  in  nearly  every  youthful  mind  an  ideal 
type  by  which  he  is  continually  testing  and  trying 
each  new  acquaintance.  The  lover  of  beauty  de- 
mands  the   sparkling   eye,   the   waving   hair,   the 


Childish  Affinities 


H3 


lovely  skin,  which  are  inseparable  from  his  idea  of 
perfection.  Another  seeks  everywhere  that  inde- 
finable suitability  to  surroundings  we  call  grace, 
and  falls  a  captive  to  the  prettiest  dancer  and 
wearer  of  the  most  tasteful  toilets,  while  the  real 
hero-worshipper  bows  down  to  the  best  scholar 
and  possessor  of  recognized  talent.  Each  child 
unconsciously  demands  some  one  thing,  and  noth- 
ing else  gives  satisfaction. 

For  there  are  natural  affinities  amongst  children. 
There  are  deep  wants  of  the  soul  which  hunger  for 
gratification,  and  no  mother,  however  tender,  no 
father,  however  wise,  can  be  quite  sure  that  in  giv- 
ing their  child  a  proper  companion  and  pleasant 
playmate  they  have  given  him  one  of  whom  he  can 
make  a  friend.  Most  of  the  unfortunate  attach- 
ments children  form — not  necessarily  bad  associa- 
tions, but  attachments  that  cause  them  suffering — 
are  the  fault  of  their  elders.  If  they  were  not  ad- 
vised so  much,  not  interfered  with  so  often,  their 
instinct  would  be  truer  and  their  judgment  would 
not  be  bewildered.  They  would  then  select  their 
friends  for  natural  reasons,  for  sympathies,  for  sup- 
plemental qualities,  and  would  less  often  be  dis- 
appointed and  cast  down  by  the  failure  to  create 
a  heart's  idol  out  of  the  clay  figure  propinquity  has 
cast  in  their  path.  "  What  is  more  delightful  than 
personal    magnetism  ? "     asks     Bronson    Alcott, 


144  Childish  Affinities 


"  Tis  the  charm  of  good  fellowship  as  of  good 
writing." 

We  must  consider  that  a  child  is  even  more  sen- 
sitive to  this  ineffable  attraction  than  the  most  re- 
fined adult.  Never  afterward,  in  all  his  life,  will 
the  enthusiast  who,  at  ten  years,  twines  his  arms 
about  the  neck  of  his  fidus  Achates  and  vows  eter- 
nal affection,  feel  the  same  thrill  of  delight,  which 
comes  to  him  now  from  that  unreserved  abandon- 
ment. Never  again  will  the  little  girl  who  so  wor- 
shipfully  regards  the  dear  friend  wdio  is  taking  dolls' 
tea  with  her  in  the  nursery,  derive  the  same  rapture 
from  intercourse  with  any  one  of  her  future  five 
hundred  friends.  Nature  is  strong  in  the  pure, 
simple  heart  of  childhood.  Let  us  meddle  with 
her  reverently. 


Children  often  go  to  the  well  and  bear  away  a  brimming 
cup,  to  have  it  dashed  from  their  lips  just  as  they  are  about 
to  taste  of  it.  Such  a  cup,  most  probably,  will  be  the  box 
full  of  treasures  which  they  have  spent  their  summer  vaca- 
tion in  accumulating.  "  Trash  !  "  the  mother  calls  it  dis- 
dainfully, and  she  has  no  room  for  it  in  the  family  winter 
quarters.  Pray,  stop,  good  mother,  and  look  into  the  mat- 
ter a  little,  before  throwing  away  the  results  of  your  child's 
months  of  labor.  Do  we  not  treasure  mementos  of  the 
past  ?  Is  there  not  in  an  old  album  a  few  pressed  leaves, 
a  battered  cup  put  away  in  a  secret  place,  an  old  print  or 
two  in  a  cupboard  ?  We  keep  them  for  the  pleasure  asso- 
ciated with  them.  A  child,  too,  has  his  associations,  and 
his  little  heart  twines  fervently  around  something  that  looks 
to  us  utterly  worthless.  Instead  of  condemning  his  little 
properties,  let  us  induce  him  to  look  them  over,  when  pack- 
ing up,  and  save  what  he  most  values.  It  is  such  considera- 
tion as  this  towards  his  rights  that  makes  him  considerate 
of  others. 


Cultivating  Taste 

In  some  respects  modern  parents  are  more  neg- 
lectful of  their  children's  character  than  parents 
were  before  the  Christian  era.  They  have  a  con- 
tempt for  their  taste.  They  do  not  strive  to  cul- 
tivate in  them  a  love  for  the  beautiful.  The  young 
Greeks  had  always  before  their  eyes  the  perfection 
of  form  and  color.  In  their  dreams  were  repro- 
duced pictures  full  of  grace  and  harmony.  But 
the  young  American,  the  young  Englishman — na- 
tives of  the  two  most  ambitious  countries  upon 
earth — grow  up  with  crude  ideas  of  what  consti- 
tutes beauty.  Their  parents  wait  for  them  to  grow 
to  years  of  discretion  before  they  try  to  imbue 
them  with  this  love  for  the  beautiful.  They  seem 
to  think  that  when  the  time  of  necessity  comes 
they  can  buy  taste  for  their  children,  or  that  it  will 
come  into  existence  suddenly,  like  Jack's  bean- 
stalk. 

But  in  the  realm  of  mind  there  is  no  mushroom 
aristocracy:  every  faculty  has  its  antecedents. 
When  nature  has  given  to  a  family,  as  a  reward 
for  efforts  toward  self-culture,  the  fine  sense  of  ap- 
preciation, its  germ  may  exist  within  each  individ- 

146 


Cultivating  Taste  147 

ual  soul;  but  a  germ  is  only  a  possibility,  not  a 
power.  To  raise  it  to  the  distinction  of  a  power 
what  tender,  fostering  care  is  necessary,  what  pa- 
tience, what  zeal  !  While  the  infant  is  yet  lying  in 
his  cradle,  his  staring  eyes  half  perceiving  the  ceil 
of  the  room,  half  reflecting  some  dream  vision 
wrought  on  the  inner  retina,  a  sense  of  his  surround- 
ings sinks  into  his  soul,  which  takes  the  cast  set 
for  it. 

Give  this  young  soul  something  beautiful  to 
gaze  upon.  It  has  an  inherent  right  to  the  sur- 
roundings nature  lavishly  makes  lovely,  even  to 
the  eyes  of  the  poorest  of  her  children.  What  are 
those  daubs  doing  upon  the  nursery  walls,  and 
those  grotesque,  ugly  toys  on  the  durable  but 
hideously  patterned  carpet  ?  If  he  is  sensitive,  na- 
ture will  protect  him  'by  weaving  over  his  eyes  the 
film  of  indifiference  so  that  he  will  never  learn  to 
perceive,  and  in  after  years,  when  the  world  opens 
its  rich  and  rare  chambers  to  him,  he  will  turn  away 
into  the  outer  hall  in  conscious  awkwardness  and 
ignorance. 

The  tender  mother,  delicately  alive  to  every 
shade  of  disharmony  in  her  own  room,  is  surpris- 
ingly careless  of  the  surroundings  of  her  child. 
Anything  that  is  bright,  highly  colored,  striking, 
is  deemed  the  appropriate  ornament  for  the  nurs- 
ery.    Just  as  the  conversation  of  servants  is  the 


148  Cultivating  Taste 

preparation  for  his  entrance  to  the  drawing-room, 
where  men  and  women  whose  intellectual  gifts  are 
their  crowns  will  criticise  him,  the  cheap  ugliness 
of  the  refuse  of  the  house  fixes  his  taste.  Shall  we 
not  treat  our  child  as  well  as  we  treat  our  guest  ? 
If  we  have  little,  let  us  spare  him  what  we  can 
afiford.  If  much,  let  us  believe  that  it  is  no  waste 
to  bestow  on  him  what  we  ourselves  appreciate. 
All  the  young  Greeks  were  not  rich.  But  beauty 
was  a  free  gift  to  the  poorest.  Parents  do  not  need 
wealth  to  give  them  power  to  educate  the  aesthetic 
sense,  which  is  closely  connected  with  the  moral 
nature;  they  need  faith  and  love.  Did  they  re- 
spect the  germ  of  taste  in  their  child's  soul,  it 
would  grow.  The  day  would  not  then  come  when 
his  vulgarity  would  shame  their  refinement.  The 
time  to  begin  this  education  is  when  the  baby  is 
just  waking  to  a  knowledge  of  his  surroundings. 
His  first  glimpse  of  the  world  will  give  him  his 
predisposition.  Some  fine  engravings  on  the  walls 
of  his  bedroom,  some  pretty  color,  were  it  cambric 
or  calico,  some  graceful  form  to  enchain  his  atten- 
tion will  be  the  simple  means  of  developing  in  him 
that  love  of  the  beautiful  which  never  dies. 


Children  who  are  left  largely  to  themselves  and  allowed 
to  draw  deductions  from  facts  without  being  choked  by 
officious  classifications  at  every  turn,  exhibit  capacity  to 
generalize.  A  kindergartener  mentions  that  a  little  boy  of 
six,  whose  faculties  had  been  aroused  by  loving  guidance, 
from  a  seemingly  dormant  state,  surprised  his  father  by  the 
following  observation:  "  Some  things  live  and  some  things 
only  keep."  He  thus  distinguished  between  the  life  of  ani- 
mals and  plants.  An  instance  of  a  morbid  phase  of  this 
power  occurs  in  "  Robert  Elsmere,"  where  Langdon,  the 
delicate,  large-eyed  child,  plaintively  asks  his  mother, 
"  Mamma,  why  is  it  I  dislike  the  things  I  dislike  so  much 
more  than  I  like  the  things  that  I  like  ?  "  Although,  happily, 
children  do  not  often  evince  such  melancholy  power  of  self- 
analysis,  instances  will  occur  to  most  parents  of  some  far- 
reaching  remark  made  by  their  little  ones,  in  total  uncon- 
sciousness of  its  breadth  of  application. 


Picture-thinking 

The  power  of  forming  pictures  in  the  mind's 
eye,  or  of  visualizing,  as  it  is  called,  is  not  only 
much  greater  with  some  persons  than  with  others, 
but  greater  at  some  periods  of  life.  It  belongs  par- 
ticularly to  youth.  In  some  children  it  is  very  high 
and  they  have  a  difficulty  in  distinguishing  be- 
tween the  objective  and  subjective  world.  Their 
dreams  dwell  in  their  memories  as  pictures  so  vivid 
that  they  can  scarcely  believe  that  they  were  not 
real  happenings.  The  faculty  of  visualizing  is  a 
natural  gift  and  runs  in  some  families.  The  child 
of  an  emotional,  fanciful  mother  or  superstitious 
father  will  perhaps  have  a  tendency  toward  pic- 
ture-thinking, although  in  a  less  happy  sort  than 
if  his  parents  were  cultivated  or  talented  as  well 
as  imaginative. 

The  ability  to  ''  think  in  pictures,"  with  such  fa- 
cility that  a  whole  scene  can  be  readily  represented, 
is  the  distinguishing  mark  of  artistic  talent.  But 
it  is  accompanied  by  the  disadvantage  in  early 
years  of  being  mistaken  for  a  tendency  to  exag- 
geration, and  so  is  often  disciplined  to  death.    Na- 

150 


Picture-thinking  151 

ture  nearly  always  weights  her  fine  spirits  with 
some  leaden  impediment,  perhaps  that  they  shall 
gain  strength  by  having  something  to  overcome. 
But  the  fanciful  or  visualizing  mind  is  apt  to  be 
of  delicate  fibre.  Ridicule  wounds  it,  harshness 
crushes  it.  So,  few  persons  preserve  unto  their 
later  years  the  vitality  of  imagination  that  was 
theirs  in  childhood. 

Day-dreaming  runs  in  families  as  night-dream- 
ing does.  Both  are  the  work  of  the  same  faculties. 
By  night  the  brain  dreams  because  the  creative 
faculty  is  awake,  while  the  others  are  asleep,  and 
wonderful  absurdities  are  gravely  rehearsed  with- 
out exciting  criticism,  although  sometimes  it  seems 
as  if  the  person's  judgment  is  roused  to  make  a 
protest,  and  utters  the  cautionary  remark,  "  This 
is  a  dream."  But  by  day,  when  the  imagination  is 
active,  it  is  held  in  check  by  reason. 

The  more  prominent  the  reason  the  more  it  con- 
trols day-dreams.  Children  have  little  or  no  con- 
trol over  them,  because  their  reasoning  powers  are 
feeble.  Consequently  a  little  one  will  see  two 
swans  in  the  park  and  report  at  home  that  he  has 
seen  a  crowd  of  these  feathered  beauties;  or,  he 
will  mingle  the  might-have-been  with  the  has-been, 
and  say  that  a  troop  of  soldiers  in  gold  uniforms 
passed  by  him  yesterday.  A  tot  of  two  years  in- 
sisted that  she  saw  two  white  elephants  in  the  front 


152  Picture-thinking 

yard,  where  she  was  playing.  Her  mother  was 
shocked  at  the  falsehood.  But  who  knows  whether 
that  Httle  head  did  not  droop  for  a  few  minutes 
under  the  sun's  heat,  and  a  sudden  vision  flash  be- 
fore her  eyes.  To  infancy  there  is  no  possible  or 
impossible;  whatever  can  be  conceived  may  come 
to  pass. 

The  visions  of  the  night  often  obtain  such  a 
strong  hold  on  mature  and  sober  minds  that  they 
cannot  be  shaken  off  even  by  the  contact  of  prac- 
tical, every-day  matters.  We  are  obliged  to  assure 
ourselves  over  and  over  again  that  this  unsettling 
notion  is  but  a  dream.  "  Confirmation  strong  as 
holy  WTit  "  can  scarce  impress  us  with  a  sense  of 
its  unreality.  It  is  much  more  difficult  for  a  child 
to  cast  off  the  hallucination.  He  is  less  attached 
to  facts;  the  world  has  not  yet  secured  a  strong 
hold  upon  him. 

A  little  child  must  often  be  puzzled  to  decide 
what  belongs  only  to  his  unreal  life  and  what  to  his 
real,  or  to  distinguish  clearly  between  one  and  the 
other.  He  passes  much  of  his  time  on  the  bor- 
derland between  two  worlds,  and  the  puzzled, 
slowly  recognizing  look  he  sometimes  gives  you 
is  when  he  is  just  awakening  from  a  vision  that  has 
held  his  senses  enchained.  Occasionally  he  es- 
says to  describe  something  he  has  experienced,  and 
is  told  that  he  has  dreamed  it.     His  clear  eyes  will 


Picture-thinking  153 

open  with  innocent  wonder  as  he  asks,  "  What  Is 
a  dream  ?  " 

Some  of  us  can  recollect  how,  when  illness  had 
begun  to  fasten  its  hold  upon  our  brains,  w-e  lay 
in  bed  and  watched  the  figures  on  the  ceiling  take 
strange  shapes  and  fantastic  motions:  how,  when 
fever  set  in,  sounds  varied  in  intensity,  the  same 
kind  of  sound  seeming  at  one  instant  low,  and  at 
another  harsh,  and  now  a  succession  of  noises 
would  drag  along  and  suddenly  whirl  into  a  be- 
wildering, rapid  confusion.  This  mental  discom- 
fort outweighs  w'ith  some  sensitive  sufferers  severe 
physical  pain,  and  those  who  have  so  suffered  do 
not  need  assurance  that  the  experience  is  very  real 
to  themselves,  although  almost  incomprehensible 
to  those  who  have  not  been  through  it. 

It  is  probable  that  children  whose  minds  are  in 
the  unstable  period,  and  more  easily  thrown  out 
of  balance,  go  through  more  of  these  harassing 
experiences  than  grown  people;  but  the  discom- 
fort being  often  of  that  subtle  nature  wdiich  makes 
a  description  of  it  impossible,  they  can  only  give 
vent  to  it  ^by  vague  fretting.  A  feverish  cold  some- 
times produces  mild  delirium,  not  ahvays  recog- 
nizable as  such.  One  little  child,  apparently  not 
ver}^  ill,  seemed  to  her  nurses  to  show  unreasonable 
impatience  and  despondency,  and  was  peremptor- 
ily silenced  when  making  outcries  and  complaints 


154  Picture-thinking 

that  no  one  understood.  It  was  not  till  two  years 
later,  and  when  undergoing  a  recurrence  of  the 
same  sickness,  that  she  was  able  to  express  to  her 
father  a  peculiar  and  very  disagreeable  phenomena 
which  he  recognized  as  one  that  he  had  himself 
suffered  from  when  ill. 

When  a  sick  child  shows  restlessness  under  some 
slight  annoyance,  almost  imperceptible  to  others, 
he  should  not  be  chided.  Without  being  spoiled, 
this  is  yet  a  time  for  indulgence  of  whims.  No  one 
can  say  how  much  a  thing  is  magnified  by  being 
passed  through  an  invalid's  lens.  In  fevers  the 
senses  are  often  preternaturally  sharp:  the  ticking 
of  a  watch  becomes  unbearable,  and  the  swaying 
to  and  fro  of  a  curtain  distorts  the  whole  otherwise 
serene  atmosphere.  It  is  strange  that  a  well  per- 
son can  scarcely  recall  his  sensations  while  sick; 
never  with  vividness.  But  to  a  sick  person  the 
whole  world  seems  ill.  As  everything  which  is 
true  of  grown  people's  fancies  is  even  more  in- 
tensely true  of  children,  this  is  no  exception.  They 
often  suffer  more  keenly  from  the  riot  of  a  dis- 
turbed imagination  than  any  one  who  has  forgot- 
ten his  childhood  can  beheve. 


To  fall  down  stairs  with  a  baby  is  certainly  an  alarming 
experience.  But  few  would  have  the  presence  of  mind  of 
this  five-year-old.  She  had  disobeyed  orders  in  trying  to 
carry  him,  and  an  awful  sense  of  responsibility  rushed  over 
her  as  she  fell.  Scarcely,  therefore,  had  she  recovered  breath, 
when  she  cried  out,  "  Oh,  auntie,  baby  is  not  hurt  !  I  kept 
him  all  the  way  on  top  ! " 


The   Little   Mother 

The  "  g-ood  old  times  "  were  times  of  satisfac- 
tion and  peace  for  the  elder  members  of  a  family, 
and  of  anything  but  satisfaction  to  the  younger 
members.  The  first  son  was  the  heir,  the  first 
daughter  of  more  importance  than  succeeding 
ones.  The  mere  fact  of  priority  conferred  an  in- 
disputable right  to  command  service.  The  little 
ones  waited  upon  the  elder  brother  and  sister  and 
submitted  unresistingly  to  their  authority.  Per- 
haps their  turn  came  later,  but  so  long  as  the  fam- 
ily remained  together  the  younger  persons  were 
"  the  children,"  with  no  settled  or  acquired  rights, 
and  their  preferences  were  of  the  last  considera- 
tion. 

How  changed  is  all  this  !  Sometimes  it  seems 
as  if  Justice,  instead  of  keeping  her  scales  equally 
balanced,  merely  absolves  herself  of  the  duty  of 
fair  play  by  giving  free  scope  in  one  period  to  a 
certain  set  of  people  and  in  another  period  permit- 
ting another  set  to  come  uppermost.  This  is  not 
only  the  day  of  the  younger  generation,  but  of  the 

156 


The  Little  Mother  157 

youngest  generation.  "  Baby  is  king."  The  elder 
brother  and  sister  are  his  servants,  whether  will- 
ing or  unwilling  to  accept  that  position.  The  af- 
fairs of  the  household  are  arranged  upon  the  basis 
of  his  necessities,  real  or  fancied,  and  in  some  in- 
stances he  becomes  the  small  tyrant  of  the  tribe. 

Departing  from  the  metaphor,  that  some  ruling 
fate  is  responsible  for  the  condition  mortals  find 
themselves  in,  it  must  be  admitted  that  we  mani- 
fest, ordinarily,  very  little  of  that  strict  and  impar- 
tial justice  that  is  always  so  admirable  in  theory. 
Parents  love  "  the  line  of  least  resistance."  They 
are  terrorized  by  something  that  has  the  faculty  of 
noisy  opposition,  and  find  it  easier  to  make  more 
reasonable  creatures  give  way  to  the  less  reason- 
able than  to  train  the  latter  to  make  proper  con- 
cessions. 

The  "  Moloch  of  a  baby,"  which  one  of  our  lat- 
ter day  writers  has  memorialized  as  the  devourer 
of  a  devoted  sister's  happiness  and  strength,  is, 
unhappily,  no  hero  of  fiction.  In  the  households 
of  the  laboring  class  he  is  especially  in  evidence. 
It  is  often  a  necessity  here  for  the  child  of  eight 
or  ten  to  become  the  nursery  governess,  the  unpaid 
drudge,  the  slave  of  the  tribe  of  younger  ones. 
The  mother  who  should  take  care  of  them  is  a 
wage-earner;  the  "little  mother"  must  step  into 
the  vacant  place. 


15B  The  Little  Mother 

The  dreary  lives  of  these  poor  little  drndg-es  ex- 
cite deep  compassion  in  the  minds  of  the  pitiful 
and  sympathetic  friends  of  children.  But  there  is 
also  much  that  is  deserving  of  sympathy  in  the 
situation  of  the  seniors  in  what  are  called  refined 
and  educated  households,  Where  the  means,  if  not 
ample,  are  not  so  straitened  as  to  make  it  essential 
for  "  little  mothers  "  to  exist.  It  is  here  not  so 
often  a  matter  of  necessity  as  of  convenience  for 
the  mother  to  delegate  many  of  her  own  duties  to 
the  faithful  and  conscientious  elder  sister,  who, 
when  the  baby  first  comes,  is  delighted  to  take  care 
of  it,  not  knowing  how  onerous  the  task  may 
finally  become. 

Mothers  do  not  always  understand  how  heavily 
the  sense  of  responsibility  weighs  upon  a  little  girl 
of  this  earnest  nature.  When  she  is  told  "  not  to 
let  anything  happen  to  the  baby  "  during  her  care 
of  it,  perhaps  a  whole  afternoon  or  evening,  she 
feels  an  excess  of  anxiety  which  no  hireling  would 
permit  herself  to  be  troubled  by  for  a  moment. 
This  is  partly  through  affection,  but  more 
through  her  feeling  of  inefficiency  to  prevent  acci- 
dent. She  needs  protection  herself,  and  it  is  a 
strain  upon  her  to  become  the  protector  of  an- 
other. It  is,  of  course,  natural  and  proper  that 
elder  ones  should  assist  in  the  care  of  the  younger 
brothers  and  sisters,  but  a  thoug'htful  parent  will 


The  Little  Mother  159 

take  care  that  the  httle  assistant  is  not  made  the 
responsible  guardian. 

But  the  cross  which  is  most  generally  imposed 
upon  the  ''  little  big  brother  and  sister  "  is  to  make 
them  give  up  their  property  to  the  smaller  ones. 
The  baby  cries  for  sister's  French  doll,  and  the 
careful  owner,  who  has  guarded  it  as  the  apple  of 
her  eye,  is  persuaded  or  commanded  to  let  him 
have  it,  and  the  damage  it  sustains  in  consequence 
is  the  reward  of  her  sacrifice.  Would  mamma  give 
baby  her  watch  to  play  with  ?  Yet  she  asks 
brother  to  let  him  have  the  soldiers  or  the  domi- 
noes, and  if  the  set  is  spoiled  she  forgets  to  console. 
She  will  let  ruthless  little  lingers  meddle  with  the 
neatly  kept  playhouse  or  book-shelf,  because  it  is 
too  much  trouble  to  prevent  the  pillage.  It  is  not 
a  wonder  that  sometimes  the  affection  of  the  se- 
niors in  a  family  is  turned  to  bitterness,  and  they 
wish  the  baby  had  never  come  to  make  havoc  of 
their  pleasure  and  comfort. 

This  tyranny  of  the  younger  faction  is  the  swing- 
ing back  of  the  pendulum.  Babies  are  having 
their  day.  But  let  us  hope  that  the  intelligence 
of  parents  in  this  age  will  harmonize  the  interests 
which  have,  in  ruder  times,  so  conflicted,  and  by 
the  exercise  of  a  finer  sense  of  justice  bring  about 
a  system  of  equality  in  the  household.  Every 
child  has  natural  rights  which  should  never  be  sub- 


i6o  The  Little  Mother 

ordinated  to  the  claims  of  brother  or  sister.  All 
should  rank  alike  in  the  parents'  eyes,  and  the  hap- 
piness of  the  large  one  and  the  tiny  one  be  at  all 
times  the  subject  of  equal  consideration. 


Beecher,  who  possessed  one  of  those  marvellously  sym- 
pathetic temperaments  which  enabled  him  to  enter  acutely 
into  the  feelings  of  children,  remarked,  when  talking  of  the 
melancholy  which  sometimes  attacks  them:  "There  is  no 
such  lonesomeness  as  that  the  young  feel  before  they  have 
applied  their  powers  in  life  and  vindicated  their  place  in  so- 
ciety. It  is  dreariness."  Persons  who  have  forgotten  this 
period  in  their  lives  may  be  reminded  of  it  through  associa- 
tion where  they  experience  that  feeling  which  comes  to  most 
of  us  sometimes:  a  longing  for  a  home  in  the  world,  for  a 
particular  niche,  a  place  and  a  function  peculiarly  our  own. 
Sympathy,  not  cold  reproof,  ought  to  visit  a  child  who  is 
passing  through  this  stage  of  his  existence. 


An   Inevitable  Separation 

"  Family  likeness  has  often  a  deep  sadness  in  it. 

Nature,  that  great  tragic  dramatist,  knits  us  to- 
gether by  bone  and  muscle,  and  divides  us  by  the 
subtler  web  of  our  brains."  There  comes  to  us 
suddenly,  at  times,  a  strange  sense  of  aloofness 
from  one  we  regard  as  especially  like  ourselves. 
The  child  who  has  stood  learning  his  lessons  at  his 
mother's  knee,  looks  up  at  her  one  day  with  a 
whole  world  of  new  feeling  in  his  eyes,  and  in  the 
quickening  of  latent  powers  she  has  not  suspected 
he  becomes  a  new  being,  one  whom  she  can  no 
longer  wholly  comprehend. 

He  is  her  own  boy  still:  there  are  the  same  eyes; 
the  same  trick  of  that  curl  of  the  lips,  and  the  very 
motion  of  the  hand,  by  which  he  for  the  first  time 
makes  dissent  from  her  opinion,  proclaim  him  one 
of  her  kith  and  kin.  And  yet  they  are  divided; 
for  some  instinct  from  this  hour  draws  him  along 
in  a  path  of  thinking  which  she  has  never  entered 
and  could  not  enter.  The  stirring  of  blood  in  his 
veins  which  is  not  hers,  but  his  father's,  gives  him 
a  separate  life.     Mentally  isolated,  the  same  roof 

covers  them,  and  at  table,  at  the  hearth,  every- 

162 


An  Inevitable  Separation  163 

where,  the  obHgations  of  family  relationship  seem 
to  entreat  for  an  intimacy  of  the  inner  life  which 
cannot  exist. 

Parents  resent  the  inevitable  hour  of  mental 
separation.  This  is  the  real  flight  of  the  young 
bird  from  the  home  nest;  the  going  out  into  the 
world  with  untried  pinions  which  flutter  obedient 
to  some  ambition  coming  down  from  a  grand- 
mother who  is  dust.  The  going  off  to  school,  the 
entrance  into  business  is  not  the  radical  change. 
The  mother  does  not  lose  her  boy  when  he  goes 
to  college,  nor  her  daughter  the  day  she  marries 
her.  Could  she  but  know  it,  the  loss  took  place 
years  ago,  in  that  hour  when  there  flashed  up  in 
the  clashing  of  two  diverse  natures  the  spark  of 
dissension  destined  to  become  a  settled  unlikeness 
of  feeling  and  opinion,  lasting  for  life. 

Can  one  lose  what  he  never  had  ?  How  much 
there  is  about  our  children  that  does  not  belong 
to  us,  that  will  ever  remain  to  us  a  mystery!  There 
is  a  must  in  all  those  characteristics  we  think 
strange,  which  impels  them  to  take  issue  against 
our  wishes.  The  strings  which  in  us  and  in  them 
are  of  like  fibre  will  always  vibrate  in  unison.  But 
there  are  others,  meant  to  make  music  not  for  our 
ears,  and  with  which  we  have  naught  to  do. 

Traits  which  seem  alike  are  often  as  dissimilar 
as    the    varieties    of   rose   which    own    the    same 


164  An  Inevitable  Separation 

hedge  plant  for  ancestor,  but  neither  exhale  in 
themselves  the  same  perfume,  nor  glow  with  the 
same  hues.  The  father  thinks  his  son  possessed 
■of  his  own  will  power,  and  refrains  from  coercing 
the  boy,  who  astounds  him  by  showing  later  the 
peevish  flicker  of  narrow  prejudice  and  obstinacy, 
instead  of  the  steady  heat  of  devotion  to  a  princi- 
ple. Maternal  complacency  is  flattered  by  the  ex- 
hibition on  the  part  of  the  baby  daughter  of  a  cer- 
tain precocity  and  propriety  of  expression  which 
promises  to  reproduce  madame's  own  social  tact, 
and  lo  !  the  girl's  little  gift  blossoms  out  into  one 
of  those  rare  talents  of  eloquence  which  announce 
her  unmistakably  a  leader  among  an  earnest  and 
aspiring  circle  of  workers,  whose  aims  and  ideas 
are  as  remote  as  the  poles  from  those  of  her 
mother.  Dare  we  pretend  to  claim,  while  they  are 
yet  in  the  germ,  faculties  and  passions  whose  end 
our  wildest  imagination  cannot  presage  !  There 
is  a  law  of  variation,  but  as  yet  no  one  knows  what 
it  is.  Until  we  know  it,  let  us  look  reverently 
upon  unexpected  and  startling  departures  from 
parental  stock. 


In  the  diary  of  a  young  girl  of  thirteen  occurred  this  re- 
markable sentence:  "At  least,  there  is  one  thing  I  have  now 
that  I  shall  not  have  when  I  am  older  and  my  life  has  be- 
come fixed;  I  have  hope  and  anticipation,  for  while  the  future 
is  before  me  and  all  is  uncertain,  anything  may  happen; 
even  my  sweetest  dreams  may  come  true."  The  child  un- 
wittingly touched  upon  the  one  great  mental  difference  be- 
tween youth  and  maturity,  the  buoyancy  and  enthusiasm  of 
the  former,  as  contrasted  with  the  more  sombre  reflections 
natural  to  a  period  of  liff  when  reverie  brings  to  the  present 
hour  fetters  to  chain  aspirations  and  teach  the  pitiless  limita- 
tions of  hope.  Childhood  should  be  cheerful,  because  it  has 
no  past  to  look  back  upon.  Encourage  its  rosy  dreams, 
instead  of  croaking  in  its  ears.  The  longer  youthful  en- 
thusiasm can  be  made  to  last,  the  better  for  the  world. 


Cheerfulness 

Cheerfulness  is  the  one  essential  condition  in 
a  child's  social  atmosphere.  Loving  order,  he  can 
endure  slovenliness;  appreciating-  beautiful  sur- 
roundings, he  can  reconcile  himself  to  a  bare  room 
where  the  plaster  is  crumbling  and  the  boards 
splinter  under  his  feet;  and  with  a  heart  craving 
for  tenderness  and  sympathy,  he  can  put  this  natural 
longing,  in  a  great  measure,  out  of  his  mind,  if 
only  the  people  about  him  arc  a  contented,  merry 
set,  given  to  making  the  best  of  life. 

Has  it  not  been  remarked  over  and  over  again 
that  a  child  delicately  bred  and  used  to  refined 
company,  will  steal  out  of  the  parlor  and  sit  by  the 
hour  on  a  hard  chair  in  the  kitchen,  only  for  the 
chance  of  hearing  the  unrestrained  hilarities  that 
prev^ail  there  ?  It  is  not  so  much  a  desire  for  un- 
refined society  as  a  longing  for  something  hearty 
and  jovial.  The  subdued  tones  and  gently  plain- 
tive modulations  of  the  cultivated  part  of  the 
household  often  produce  in  him  a  nameless  depres- 
sion. The  atmos])herc  is  laden  with  a  dead  weight 
of  experiences  too  lofty  for  him  to  comprehend 
and  pervaded  with  a  certain  quality  of  prudent  dis- 

i66 


Cheerfulness  167 


trust  and  reserve  that  tortures  him  by  its  continual 
suggestion  that  Hfe  is  not  what  he  wants  it  to  be 
and  what  it  seems  natural  to  him  that  it  should  be, 
but  a  sort  of  lesson  to  be  learned  with  pain  and  dis- 
satisfaction. What  a  contrast  is  the  open-hearted 
kitchen  with  its  commonplace,  happy-go-lucky  in- 
mates, and  its  bustle  of  every-day  occupation  !  If 
the  cook  is  a  good-tempered  woman,  and  the 
maids,  as  they  are  wont  to  be,  young,  vivacious, 
and  talkative,  the  child  is  apt  to  desire,  as  the  one 
did  who  was  promised  a  sojourn  among  the  im- 
maculate angels,  "  a  chance  to  frolic  with  the  little 
devils  every  Saturday  night  !  " 

But  not  only  is  a  cheerful  household  atmosphere 
conducive  to  a  child's  happiness,  but  it  helps  him 
to  be  good.  Optimism  attracts  him  irresistibly, 
and  he  will  attach  himself  with  ardor  to  the  person 
who  has  a  genial  smile  and  a  pleasant  word  for 
everybody;  who  seems  to  believe  that  the  world 
is  a  good  place,  on  the  whole,  and  the  men  and 
women  in  it  well-meaning  people.  Whenever  a 
child's  judgment  of  character  is  deceived,  and  he 
is  fascinated  by  a  person  totally  unworthy,  it  will 
be  found  that  the  evil  in  this  nature  was  over- 
balanced by  the  magic  of  cheerfulness.  Happi- 
ness magnetizes  him,  and  he  will  become  enslaved, 
even,  by  the  person  who  radiates  satisfaction  and 
merriment.     So  the  father  and  mother  whose  men- 


1 68  Cheerfulness 


tal  tone  is  that  of  ordinary  contentment,  and  who 
generally  "  look  on  the  bright  side,"  have  little 
trouble  in  g-overning  their  children.  As  they  ex- 
pect the  best,  they  get  it.  It  is  a  matter  of  course 
that  the  younger  members  of  the  family  feel  con- 
strained to  live  up  to  the  standard  of  the  elders. 

It  is  not  enoug*h  to  be  sincere,  industrious,  and 
law-abiding  members  of  the  community  to  secure 
the  welfare  of  our  children.  We  must  also  be  at 
least  satisfied  and  hopeful,  if  not  happy.  There  is 
a  great  deal  of  inevitable  misery  in  the  world,  and 
many  innocent  victims,  but — the  miserable  should 
not  have  children.  Gloom  and  despondency  are 
the  parents  of  turpitude  and .  desperation.  The 
constitutionally  depressed  person,  the  one  given  to 
"  megrims  "  and  who  "  meets  trouble  half-way  " 
should  consider  it  a  most  solemn  duty  to  guard 
against  the  possibility  of  offspring.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  children  whose  heritage  dates  from  a 
period  of  melancholy  and  clouded  spirits  in  their 
parents  will  enter  upon  life  not  only  predisposed 
to  gloom,  but  to  rebellion  against  law  and  disci- 
pline. 


There  are  some  well-meaning  persons  in  the  world  who 
seem  expressly  constituted  for  the  torment  and  destruction 
of  the  younger  generation.  One  such  person  in  a  house- 
hold— it  may  be  an  aunt  or  a  grandmother,  or  an  elderly 
friend — can  work  more  harm  in  an  hour  than  months  can 
undo.  She  comments  upon  the  children's  appearance,  upon 
their  mood,  their  manner:  if  they  are  grave,  she  admonishes 
them;  if  they  are  merry,  she  either  restrains  or  admires; 
no  look  or  word  can  pass  without  remark,  and  her  atten- 
tions have  the  effect  of  making  the  children  self-conscious 
and  embarrassed  to  a  degree.  There  is  a  certain  tormenting 
little  game  that  children  play  with  each  other  which  this 
recalls.  One  girl  will  watch  another  sharply,  and  if  the  first 
raises  her  hand  she  calls  out,  "  That's  right,  miss,  I  want 
you  to  do  so;"  if  she  closes  her  eyes  or  bobs  her  head, 
again  comes  the  refrain,  "Go  on,  don't  stop;  I  like  to  see 
you  bob  your  head,"  and  so  on,  until  the  victim  is  almost 
frantic.  But  why  should  elderly  persons  play  these  pranks  ? 
It  shows  a  great  want  of  wit  and  penetration. 


A   Family  Tyrant 

In  many  houses  there  is  at  least  one  inmate  who 
has  had  his  or  her  Hnes  cast  among  unpleasant 
places  in  this  world,  and  who  ejchales  bitterness, 
or  at  least  mild  misery.  Such  a  person  can  poison 
the  whole  atmosphere;  all  the  grown  people  catch 
more  or  less  of  the  infection,  and  the  child's  horizon 
is  completely  overcast.  A  moment's  jollity  is  fol- 
lowed by  swift  recollection  of  the  awful  responsi- 
bilities and  cares  that  press  heavily.  Some  one  is 
ready  to  check  mirth  as  if  it  were  contraband. 
"  Don't  be  foolish,"  would-be  wisdom  admonishes. 
Among  the  colored  people  of  the  South  is  an  old 
aphorism  which  they  din  into  the  ears  of  the 
young:  "  Yo'  is  eatin'  yer  white  bread  now,  child, 
yo'  is  seein'  yer  best  days;  make  de  mos'  of  'em." 
This  warning  is  sufficient  to  pull  up  the  sprightliest 
reveller  and  make  him  thoughtful. 

Equally  to  be  dreaded  is  that  too  common  factor 
of  some  households,  a  perfectly  self-engrossed  per- 
sonage impressed  with  the  idea  that  he  is  the  cen- 
tripetal force  of  all  family  life;   that  its  machinery 

170 


A  Family  Tyrant  171 

is  to  move  faster  or  slower  in  accurate  interpreta- 
tion of  his  wishes.  Sometimes  this  tyrant  is  the 
mother  herself,  ruling  the  family  throug*h  her  lan- 
guid peevishness.  Voices  must  be  lowered  to 
whispers,  only  such  dishes  prepared  as  suit  her  own 
fancies;  people  are  to  come  and  go  at  her  conve- 
nience. The  absolute  sovereignty  of  such  a  woman, 
fortified  against  rebuke  by  a  triple  layer  of  vanity, 
is  well  illustrated  in  the  character  of  Rosamond, 
in  the  novel  "  Middlemarch."  But  more  often  it 
is  some  pampered  son  who  plays  this  part  of  family 
tyrant.  His  appearance  is  the  signal  for  a  little 
flutter  of  anxiety,  a  redistribution  of  affairs ;  every 
one  is  made  slightly  uncomfortable  lest  he  should 
fail  to  be  comfortable.  In  an  Englis'h  household 
the  elder  son  is  mounted  at  birth  upon  this  ped- 
estal, and  doting  sisters  and  subservients  conspire 
to  feed  his  exalted  opinion  of  his  own  importance. 
It  is  but  just  to  American  men  to  say  that  they 
are  seldom  objects  of  terror  in  their  households. 
And  yet  in  proportion  to  the  rarity  with  which 
they  assume  this  position  is  their  complete  assump- 
tion of  it  upon  occasion.  There  is  an  old  saying 
that  spoiled  sons  make  bad  husbands.  They  also 
make  bad  heads  of  households.  Unhappy  beyond 
comparison  is  that  family  dominated  over  by  a  man 
who  in  his  boyhood  had  everything  give  way  to 
him,  and  who  has  grown  up  in  the  profound  belief 


1/2  A  Family  Tyrant 

that  upon  his  preservation  depends  largely  the  wel- 
fare of  the  race.  His  egotism  is  thus  sanctioned, 
and  knows  no  limits.  "  In  our  presence,"  says 
Mrs.  Stowe's  heroine,  the  pretty  and  imperious 
Eva  Van  Arsdale,  "  men  have  got  to  give  over 
absorbing,  and  begin  radiating."  But  our  egoist 
Who  sits  in  the  midst  of  the  family  as  an  embodied 
representation  of  Power  condescends  to  no  such 
necessity.  There  are  two  types:  the  talking  dog- 
matist and  the  silent  egoist,  whose  taciturnity  is 
subject  to  outbreaks  of  temper  and  relapses  into 
sullenness.  The  presence  of  the  former  embitters 
others  and  rouses  them  to  rebellion;  that  of  the 
latter  freezes  sensitive  natures  and  crushes  spon- 
taneity. The  habit  of  cheery  interchanges,  of  in- 
terested and  interesting  talk  is  not  only  lost,  but 
the  reservoirs  of  expression  seem  to  dry  up.  The 
meeting  together  of  member?  of  the  family  be- 
comes a  mockery.  Each  one  feels  his  own  in- 
significance. His  individuality  is  stunned,  and 
waits  to  regain  itself  under  new  conditions. 

There  are,  of  course,  certain  natures  which  are 
inherently  lacking  in  any  capacity  for  expansion; 
thin,  bloodless  beings  marked  out  by  destiny  for 
conventual  isolation.  They  may  be  drawn  out  if 
their  friends  have  sufficient  vitality  to  expend  for 
the  purpose,  and  sometimes  these  efforts  are  re- 
warded iby  a  glow  of  thankfulness,  an  outburst  of 


A  Family  Tyrant  173 

devotion.  The  mind  that  has  been  hving  a  frozen, 
starved  existence  has  reason  to  be  grateful  to  the 
benefactor  who  opens  its  prison  and  lets  in 
warmth  and  light.  So  the  spectacle  is  not  un- 
common of  a  warm-blooded,  vivid  creature  fol- 
lowed and  attended  by  a  hypnotized  satelhte  who 
seems  to  live  in  the  radiance  cast  by  the  richer 
nature.  The  attachments  of  children  are  fre- 
quently of  this  sort.  The  child  who  is  physically 
or  mentally  weak  is  strongly  attracted  to  an  im- 
perious, brilliant  comrade  upon  whom  he  lavishes 
an  affection  little  short  of  worship. 

A  parent  who  has  this  gift  of  magnetism  may  be 
as  imperious  as  he  pleases  and  yet  be  loved;  for 
with  such  a  nature  he  is  sure  to  possess  a  social 
disposition  which  makes  him  desire  the  sympathy 
and  companionship  of  his  family.  He  needs  love, 
seeks  it,  and  obtains  it.  But  there  are  no  half-way 
houses  in  the  road  of  human  relations;  we  must 
either  fulfil  our  obligations  to  others  or  neglect 
them.  We  must  either  make  our  associates  happy, 
or  be  responsible  for  the  denial  of  the  happiness  we 
might  have  wrought  for  them.  So  the  unpardon- 
able ofifence  is  self-sufficiency;  that  cold,  cruel 
aloofness  which  holds  others  at  a  distance,  and 
makes  even  a  kindness  conferred  appear  a  per- 
functory, unwilling  concession.  As  "  a  little 
leaven  leaveneth   the  whole   lump,"   so   the   self- 


174  A  Family  Tyrant 

engrossment  of  a  strong,  powerful  nature  compe- 
tent to  create  sunshine  for  all  about  him,  becomes 
a  dread  paralysis  which  extends  to  the  outermost 
rim  of  his  family  circle. 


A  great  improvement  in  the  temper  of  children  will  take 
place  when  average  parents  substitute  for  two  time-honored, 
cold-blooded  phrases  two  other  more  natural  ones.  Sup- 
pose, instead  of  a  continual  "  Keep  quiet  "  and  "  Keep  clean," 
should  be  said  cheerfully,  "  Run  about  freely,"  and  "  Never 
mind  clothes,  they  can  be  washed."  This  would  be  a  new 
Magna  Charta  to  many  tormented  little  creatures.  In  real- 
ity, fragile  clothing  that  must  be  continually  thought  of  is 
as  much  a  strait-jacket  as  the  old-fashioned  canvas  things 
called  by  that  name.  If  we  could  give  our  little  ones  the 
aboriginal  covering  of  feathers  or  fur  to  grow  up  in,  they 
would  be  happy  and  healthy;  since  we  cannot,  let  us  give 
them  waterproof  and  homespun.  And  never  torture  them 
bv  that  cruel  refrain,  "  Keep  clean." 


Energy  and  Temper 

Nothing  is  more  misunderstood  in  children, 
nor  more  injudiciously  dealt  with,  than  what  is 
called  temper.  Really  temper  is  in  itself  nothing 
more  than  a  form  of  energy,  a  vehemence  in  act- 
ing. Stephen  Girard  is  said  to  have  preferred  as 
clerks  men  with  strong  tempers,  and  when  he  met 
one  he  would  employ  him  and  set  him  to  work  in 
a  room  by  himself;  his  opinion  being  that  such 
men  were  the  most  efficient,  and  that  their  energy 
would  spend  itself  in  work  when  removed  from  the 
temptation  to  quarrel. 

An  irascible  disposition,  however,  is  rather  dif- 
ferent from  the  vehement  self-will  ordinarily  called 
temper.  It  is  usually  an  accompaniment  of  physi- 
cal weakness,  and  has  to  be  met  by  the  same  kind 
of  tact  a  nurse  exercises  toward  her  patient;  while, 
on  the  contrary,  a  strong  temper  is  irritated  by 
such  soothing  methods.  What  it  requires  is  a 
chance  to  work  off  its  overplus  of  force;  it  wants 
to  charge  at  something,  to  storm  a  fortress,  strike 
heavy  blows,  and  be  put  in  a  position  calling  for 
precision  and  directness.  Persons  of  this  character 
are  usually  good  shots,  fearless  riders,  and  know 

176 


Energy  and  Temper  177 

how  to  command  soldiers.  In  other  words,  strong 
temper  is  a  kind  of  courage,  a  natural  instinct  to 
dominate  the  situation.  It  becomes  passion  when 
every  other  outlet  for  it  is  suppressed. 

What  should  be  done  with  a  child  possessed  of 
this  self-will  is  to  put  him  at  some  work  calling  for 
muscular  effort.  If  a  boy,  let  him  split  kindling, 
make  a  fence,  drive  nails,  run  the  errands;  and  let 
his  playthings  be  something  that  he  can  put 
through  motions — rocking-horses,  swings,  tools. 
It  is  unwise  to  make  him  perform  labor,  either 
physical  or  mental,  that  is  monotonous  in  charac- 
ter. "  The  Arab  barb  makes  a  bad  roadster." 
Many  children  that  are  now  daily  punished  for 
some  manifestation  of  ill  temper  would  be  admired 
for  their  bright  and  sunny  natures,  if  they  were  not 
driven  to  sullenness  by  having  all  their  faculty  for 
exertion  hampered,  and  their  fighting  instinct 
wrongly  aroused  by  opposition.  The  instinct  of 
self-assertion  is  a  proper  one,  in  itself.  Judiciously 
trained,  it  becomes  capacity  for  overcoming  diffi- 
culties, not  exactly  after  the  meek  and  patient 
manner  of  perseverance,  but  with  a  sort  of  fiery 
resolution.  Men  and  women  of  this  character 
have  their  place  in  the  world  and  are  indispensable 
in  some  emergencies.  They  usually  begin  life  with 
a  large  capacity  for  both  love  and  hate,  and  either 
may  be  brought  out  by  their  early  education. 


178  Energy  and  Temper 

We  may  develop  in  a  child  a  fairly  strong  feeling 
of  hatred  by  beginning  while  he  is  yet  in  the  cradle 
to  thwart  his  will  for  the  sake  of  teaching  him  sub- 
mission. Strong  natures  never  can  learn  to  sub- 
mit except  to  two  things:  the  force  of  circum- 
stances, and  love.  One  golden  rule  of  the  nursery 
is:  avoid  personal  encounters.  Rancor  is  a  cen- 
tury-plant; it  may  blossom  but  once  in  an  age, 
but  it  lives  and  grows  while  it  seems  dull  and  past 
blooming.  A  fight  between  parent  and  child 
leaves  scars  that  no  soothing  touches  of  kindness 
can  quite  efface,  and  wdioever  conquers  loses  some- 
thing that  never  should  have  been  jeopardized — 
his  respect  for  the  character  of  the  other.  For  the 
instant  we  cease  to  respect  we  begin  to  despise  and 
tyrannize.     It  is  so  with  parent,  as  with  child. 

In  the  life  of  almost  every  adult  there  has  come 
an  hour  when,  with  voice  of  anguish,  he  has  ut- 
tered a  protest,  bitter  and  prolonged,  against  some 
over-ruling,  unmitigable  destiny.  The  deepest 
faith  trembles  to  its  foundation  at  the  shock  of 
some  happening  which  apparently  could  only  be 
dictated  by  a  malignant  power.  Injustice  para- 
lyzes. The  faculties  refuse  to  act  in  that  freezing 
air.  The  whole  nature  falls  into  a  state  of  des- 
pondency, and  only  recuperates  when  its  confi- 
dence in  the  existence  of  an  impartial  law  is 
restored.     No   man   is   so    misanthropic   as   one 


Energy  and  Temper  lyg 

whom  accumulated  misfortunes  has  driven  to  a  be- 
Hef  in  his  ill  luck;  and  most  persons  would  find 
great  griefs  insupportable  but  for  the  alleviating 
trust  that  what  seems  for  the  time  wholly  evil  con- 
tains an  element  of  benevolence.  Men  and  women 
are  seldom  broug'ht  directly  face  to  face  with  the 
real  thing  that  unjustly  dominates  them.  Circum- 
stances— and  not  a  master — stop  their  course,  and 
to  circumstances  they  find  it  possible  to  submit 
when  it  would  not  be  possible  to  yield  to  a  personal 
force. 

This  consternation,  felt  when  the  results  of  our 
endeavors  are  disappointing,  and  when  it  seems 
as  if  we  deserved  better  things  of  Providence,  is 
the  feeling  that  comes  with  crushing  force  upon 
children  many  times  during  the  subjective  period 
of  their  lives.  Instead  of  the  vague  and  invisible 
mastery  of  circumstances,  they  have  before  them 
real,  tangible  masters  in  their  parents.  Not  only 
are  their  actions  controlled,  but  their  motives  are 
judged,  their  impulses  are  interpreted.  Parents 
are  like  society;  they  draw  positive  conclusions, 
and  whether  they  are  right  ones  or  erroneous  ones, 
there  is  no  appeal  from  them. 

So  long  as  parents  judge  justly  and  act  fairly 
the  children  feel  in  their  oversight  only  that  pleas- 
ant protection  which  confers  a  sense  of  peace  and 
safety.     They  rest  happily  under  a  paternal,  benefi- 


i8o  Energy  and  Temper 

cent  government.  But  what  confusion  they  fall 
into  w'hen  this  justice  they  confide  in  shows  itself 
to  be  harsh,  hasty,  and  selfish;  when  they  are  ac- 
cused of  intentions  they  never  dreamed  of,  and 
when  their  mistakes  or  peccadilloes  are  magnified 
into  deliberate  acts  of  wickedness.  They  stand 
silent,  or  make  bewildered  protests,  finding  no 
words  to  voice  the  grief  and  despair  that  fill  their 
hearts.  Their  beneficent  providence  has  turned 
into  a  cruel  fate,  and  they  go  forth  from  that  day 
with  the  seeds  of  doubt  in  their  minds  ready  to 
sprout  into  the  full  bloom  of  bitter  despondency 
upon  the  next  first  occasion. 

It  is  not  possible  for  parents  to  be  always  just; 
that  is  to  be  omniscient.  But  since  they  are  falli- 
ble they  should  limit  themselves  in  the  exercise  of 
their  power.  Only  a  being  entirely  perfect  can 
safely  be  trusted  with  absolute  power,  A  parent 
should  train  himself  to  be  deliberate,  to  pause  and 
say  to  himself,  "  I  may  be  mistaken,  things  may 
not  be  as  they  seem;  appearances  are  against  the 
child,  still,  in  intent  and  purpose  he  may  be  inno- 
cent.    I  will  suspend  my  judgment." 

He  will  be  able  then  to  recollect  that  in  judging 
a  child  the  one  sort  of  proof  nearly  always  em- 
ployed is  circumstantial  evidence.  Among  adults 
this  is  always  allowed  to  be  more  or  less  uncertain, 
and  so  far  as  regards  motive  it  is  decidedly  so.    And 


Energy  and  Temper  i8i 

a  child's  motives  are  what  must  chiefly  be  con- 
sidered. His  acts  are  often  but  vague  and  faulty 
expressions  of  his  aims.  Large  allowance  ought 
to  be  made  for  his  lack  of  adaptability.  He  often 
fails  to  do  what  he  fully  intended  to  do,  and  accom- 
plishes something  less  desirable.  Are  adults,  with 
all  their  experience,  exempt  from  this  tendency  to 
blunder  ?  The  tendency  is  far  greater  in  a  child. 
But  even  when  parents  are  convinced  that  their 
child  has  intentionally  offended  them,  let  them  re- 
call their  own  sensations  when  they  have  deliber- 
ately gone  against  their  convictions  of  what  is 
right.  They  hope  that  a  beneficent  Providence 
will  not  deal  with  them  according  to  their  deserts, 
but  will  temper  justice  with  mercy.  We  should 
deal  with  children  according  to  their  deserts;  for 
their  own  sake  it  must  be  done.  Yet,  let  us  temper 
justice  with  mercy. 


A  comical  instance  of  most  unconscious  childish  egotism 
is  the  following:  It  was  on  the  occasion  of  a  steamer  ex- 
cursion down  the  Potomac  River,  that,  on  the  return  voyage, 
when  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  land,  the  wheel  broke 
and  the  boat  was  compelled  to  lie  motionless  in  midstream 
till  morning,  when  a  tug  arrived  and  towed  her  to  land. 
The  night  was  burning  hot,  and  as  it  was  a  day  boat  there 
were  no  sleeping  accommodations  for  the  three  hundred  pas- 
sengers, who  consequently  reclined  around  on  the  decks  and 
wore  out  the  night  as  they  could.  Some  one  started  a  song, 
and  this  suggested  a  series  of  glees  which  were  proceeding 
with  considerable  liveliness  when  there  came  an  odd  little 
interruption.  Three-year-old  Horace,  accustomed  to  all  the 
luxuries  of  downy  couch  and  absolute  quiet  when  it  was  his 
sovereign  pleasure  to  sleep,  found  the  improvised  bed  on 
the  cabin  sofa  and  the  oil  lamps  insupportable.  When  the 
singing  began  it  was  the  drop  too  much.  Suddenly  his  small 
figure  appeared  in  the  doorway  of  the  cabin,  outlined 
against  the  brightness  within,  and  as  he  peered  forth  onto 
the  dark  decks,  his  clear  little  treble  rang  out  in  the  most 
reproachful  accents:  "Mamma  !  I  can't  go  to  sleep  in  all 
this  noise  !  "  And  then  there  was  an  amazed  pause  of  a  few 
seconds,  succeeded  by  a  shout  of  laughter  from  the  oflfending 
three  hundred,  which  made  the  young  prince  retreat  in  in- 
dignant confusion. 


Baby  Wants  a  Corner 

The  common  experience  is  that  baby  and  his 
belongings  spread  all  over  the  house.  The  little 
baby  is,  in  truth,  a  sort  of  octopus,  with  arms  that 
embrace  every  quarter.  But  despite  these  aggres- 
sions— for  which  he  is  himself  not  to  'blame — he 
has  no  hold  upon  any  locality,  but  is  moved  hither 
and  thither,  dislodged  without  notice,  and  hunted 
from  pillar  to  post  as  if  his  small  presence  and  his 
small  properties  were  inflictions  to  be  shaken  off 
whenever  chance  offers.  And  if  at  one  year  he  is 
considered  a  nuisance,  at  two  he  is  an  interloper, 
without  permanent  privilege  or  the  least  tenure  of 
possession  upon  any  spot  in  the  house. 

This  is  true  of  the  majority;  there  are  exception- 
ally favored  individuals,  young  princes  of  the 
blood,  born  into  command  of  a  miniature  king- 
dom. But  the  baby  belonging  to  the  average 
household,  none  too  large  for  the  wants  of  father 
and  mother,  and  perhaps  the  big  brother  and  sister, 
has  no  settled  locality,  and  must  wage  a  sort  of 
guerilla  warfare  on  his  inhospitable  relations  in  be- 
half of  his  dolls,  his  wagons,  his  blocks,  and  his 

books. 

183 


184  Baby  Wants  a  Corner 

No  one  knows  (who  has  not  been  a  baby)  how 
bleak  the  world  is  to  a  baby  who  has  no  little  home 
of  his  own;  no  tiny  realm  within  the  larger  one, 
toward  which  his  heart  can  turn  with  a  thrill  of 
pride  and  thankfulness  such  as  older  people  feel  in 
their  own  domain.  Baby  wants  a  nook  that  he  can 
call  all  his  own,  a  corner  of  which  he  is  lord  and 
proprietor,  that  he  can  picture  in  his  mind  when 
absent  from  it,  as  sure  to  be  just  in  the  condition 
he  left  it.  What  pleasant  memories  and  thoughts 
cluster  about  such  a  spot  we  outsiders  can  scarcely 
guess.  We  are  not  wont  to  give  him  credit  for 
much  sentiment.  But  we  have  seen  a  certain  little 
toddler  who  was  made  the  happy  lord  of  such  a 
corner,  large  enough  to  hold  a  low  table  and  chair 
and  box  of  toys,  rush  in  from  his  morning  walk, 
and  before  mittens  or  bonnet  could  be  removed, 
peer  into  his  drawer  and  search  for  every  pencil 
and  other  possession,  to  see  that  everything  was 
undisturbed. 

And  another  mite,  a  girl  of  three,  w'ho  was  pro- 
vided when  on  a  visit  with  some  toys,  made  herself 
a  miniature  bedroom  in  a  corner  of  the  parlor,  and 
could  only  be  prevailed  upon  to  leave  when  the 
assurance  was  given  that  she  should  find  the  things 
in  the  same  place  when  she  came  again.  On  the 
way  home  she  asked  her  mother  twice,  "  Mamma, 
will  my  bureau  be  there  when  I  go  back  ?  " 


Baby  Wants  a  Corner  185 


Surely  in  all  but  the  poorest  households  a  niche 
can  be  spared  for  baby.  Let  him  have  his  low 
chair  and  tiny  table,  with  a  shelf  for  his  toys,  and 
regard  his  tenant  right  as  sacred.  Do  we  want 
our  children  to  be  honest  and  fair  in  their  deal- 
ings ?  Then  let  us  give  them  a  chance  to  acquire 
just  views  early.  What  can  a  mother  expect  who 
tells  her  child  sternly,  as  a  mother  was  overheard 
saying  to  her  little  girl  the  other  day:  "  It  makes 
no  difference  what  you  want  !  "  And  there  was  a 
scornful  accent  on  the  pronoun  which  must  have 
aroused  a  thrill  of  bitter  resentment  in  that  young 
heart,  humiliated  so  unnecessarily. 

It  does  make  a  difference  what  the  child  wants, 
all  the  difference  in  the  world;  for  suppressed  de- 
sires do  not  die,  they  only  lie  hid  till  the  time  comes 
when  they  can  obtain  satisfaction.  It  is  our  duty 
to  try  and  lead  our  child  to  want  the  right  things. 
And  to  this  end  we  ought  to  gratify  his  natural 
and  innocent  preferences.  He  comes  to  us  a 
guest,  ready  to  be  sweet  and  kind  and  gracious 
in  the  measure  of  our  being  so  to  him.  Let  us 
welcome  him  and  make  him,  as  we  aim  to  make 
our  older  visitors — at  home. 


One  of  the  things  happily  hid  from  us  is  a  knowledge  of 
the  twists  and  knots  made  in  our  characters  by  the  struggles 
undergone  early  in  life.  It  is  customary  to  say,  with  some 
complacency,  "  I  had  a  pretty  hard  time  in  my  young  days, 
but  I  haven't  made  the  worse  man  (or  woman)  for  it." 
How  do  we  know  that  ?  Perhaps  we  were  made  narrow, 
unsympathetic,  selfish,  by  the  very  trials  that  seemed  to  have 
left  no  mark.  Adversity  tells  against  the  plant,  against  the 
animal,  and  it  does  not  let  man  escape  without  hurt.  The 
doctrine  of  misery  being  good  for  people,  is  exploded.  Hap- 
piness is  good  for  them,  and  there  is  no  need  to  wish  for 
hardships  for  our  children  to  develop  their  character.  As  well 
wish  that  they  should  stand  perpetually  with  rain  beating  on 
their  uncovered  heads  so  they  might  be  hardened  against 
a  possible  storm.  There  is  no  better  bulwark  against  the 
inevitable  miseries  in  an  adult's  life  than  the  mental  health 
built  up  from  a  carefully  guarded  and  happy  childhood. 
Strains  made  then  tell  on  us  in  some  way  in  maturity,  surely, 
though  we  do  not  know  it. 


Nothing  Lasts  but  Love 

Nothing  more  forcibly  betrays  the  lack  of  a 
good  understanding  between  a  child  and  his  par- 
ents than  the  sort  of  conduct  in  public  which  is 
sometimes  called  "taking  advantage."  In  the  cars, 
in  the  street,  in  places  of  amusement,  there  are  per- 
petual manifestations  of  this  wayward  spirit,  and 
the  observer  is  led  sometimes  to  wonder  at  the  pa- 
tience and  forbearance  of  parents  who  endure  teas- 
ing and  defiance  of  advice  with  seemingly  unruffled 
equanimity. 

Why  is  it  that  the  child  who  is  somewhat  upon 
his  guard  about  giving  offence  when  at  home,  be- 
comes a  veritable  imp  of  perversity  in  public  ?  It 
must  be  because  he  derives  a  sense  of  security  from 
the  presence  of  spectators.  He  has  learned  that 
his  mother  or  father  has  a  "  company  manner," 
that  the  pleasant  voice  and  smile  that  go  with  out- 
door garments  will  not  lightly  be  exchanged  for 
frowns  and  reproaches.  The  simplicity  of  a  two- 
year-old  child  penetrates  the  secret  of  that  con- 
ventional law  which  obliges  persons  to  restrain 
themselves  when  under  observation,  and  with  in- 
fantile lack  of  foresight  he  trusts  to  his  parents' 

187 


1 88  Nothing  Lasts  but  Love 

bad  memory  as  an  escape  from  the  reckoning 
whisperingly  promised. 

The  only  real  security  we  can  have  that  onr  child 
will  not  become  a  cause  of  uneasiness  and  mortifi- 
cation when  strangers  are  present  to  protect  him 
from  punishment,  is  in  the  possession  of  his  friend- 
ship and  good  will.  Is  it  too  great  a  condescen- 
sion for  a  parent  to  be  on  really  friendly  relations 
with  his  child,  to  lay  aside  that  cumbersome  "  dig- 
nity of  office  "  which  interferes  with  his  kindly  in- 
tentions, and  rely  upon  personal  influence  and 
affection  to  bring  about  what  is  best,  instead  of 
upon  a  dread  authority  ?  It  is  not  going  too  far  to 
say  that  whenever  a  child  is  led  to  do  right  through 
fear  of  punishment  only,  he  might  as  well,  so  far 
as  concerns  the  efifect  upon  his  own  character,  do 
wrong.  We  should  aim  to  reach  his  heart,  and 
not  stop  with  consideration  of  his  conduct;  for 
when  we  have  controlled  him  in  this  or  that  act 
we  cannot  be  sure  that  the  next  turn  of  circum- 
stances will  not  lead  him  toward  evil-doing;  but 
if  we  have  succeeded  in  gaining  his  confidence  so 
that  he  believes  our  advice  to  have  a  foundation 
of  sincerity  and  kindliness,  he  will  seek  to  know 
our  opinion  upon  all  matters,  and  prefer  to  be 
guided  by  it. 

Force  can  never  be  anything  but  a  temporary 
restraint.     It  may  be  necessary  in  the  case  of  hope- 


Nothing  Lasts  but  Love  189 

less  criminals,  but  in  family  life  it  is  the  worst  mode 
of  government.  Even  for  the  parent  himself  it  is 
inconvenient  and  exhausting,  for  he  must  be  ever 
upon  the  alert  to  check  encroachment,  vigilant  to 
restrain,  prompt  to  punish.  Upon  the  theory  that 
he  is  the  autocrat  of  the  household,  and  that  a 
thing  must  be  done  because  he  wills  it — not  be- 
cause it  is  right — are  built  all  those  heart-burnings 
and  suspicions  which  make  intercourse  between 
elders  and  children  a  condition  of  active  hostility 
or  armed  peace.  No  wonder  that  public  exhibi- 
tions of  childish  rebellion  and  parental  battles  are 
common,  when  mutual  respect  is  lacking.  Let 
that  once  be  well  established,  and  there  would  be 
an  end  to  bickering  and  argument,  and  all  the  dis- 
tressing scenes  that  are  now  but  too  common. 


The  love  of  privilege  is  natural  to  all  children.  Whether 
the  thing  granted  as  a  favor  is  particularly  agreeable  or  not, 
it  is  seized  upon  with  avidity.  We  all  remember  how  Mark 
Twain's  inimitable  "Tom  Sawyer"  sold  out  his  job  of  white- 
washing which  his  aunt  had  meant  as  a  punishment,  to  sev- 
eral of  his  friends  at  the  price  of  marbles,  tops,  and  pen- 
knives. Truly,  every  one  wants  what  is  hard  to  get.  Some 
teachers  wisely  make  use  of  this  human  trait  for  purposes 
of  government.  I  recollect,  in  the  days  when  I  was  a  very 
small  child  indeed,  at  what  was  then  called  an  infant-school, 
that  there  was  in  one  corner  of  the  room  a  dilapidated 
wooden  armchair  whose  occupancy  was  dearly  coveted  by 
all  the  pupils.  But  its  temporary  possession  was  always 
granted  to  "the  good  child."  When  some  forenoon's  ex- 
emplary conduct  had  won  for  me  the  favor  of  this  throne 
during  the  hour  succeeding  recess,  with  what  a  swelling 
heart  did  I  look  around  upon  the  other  children  !  It  was 
not  gratification  at  my  own  virtue,  it  was  that  I  was  doing 
something  different  from  all  the  rest.  The  chair  was  not 
comfortable;  it  was  hard,  it  was  slippery,  one  leg  was  too 
short.     But  its  occupant  was  distinguished  ! 


Pleasures  of  Ownership 

In  order  to  arouse  in  our  children  an  interest 
in  their  daily  work  about  the  house  and  garden 
it  is  well  to  give  them  some  proprietorship  in 
things.  Unhappily,  arrangements  are  often  such 
that  several  children  have  to  occupy  sleeping- 
rooms  together.  The  better  way,  and  one  which 
ought  to  be  pursued  in  every  case  where  it  is  pos- 
sible, is  for  each  child  to  have  a  room,  however 
small,  to  himself.  And  it  should  be  his  sanctuary 
— the  place  where  his  possessions  could  be  per- 
fectly secure,  and  privacy  possible  to  him  When- 
ever he  desires  it. 

If  this  is  not  feasible,  perhaps  there  is  some  old 
lumber-room  that  may  be  made  over  to  the  chil- 
dren's use,  where  each  may  have  a  particular  niche. 
Or — special  delight  ! — there  may  be  a  garret,  cob- 
webby and  littered  with  a  heterogeneous  collection 
of  trash,  that  he  may  convert  into  a  theatre  for  his 
exploits. 

It  is  curious  what  a  hold  space  has  upon  the 
youthful  imagination.  There  is  a  craving  for 
fields  and  pastures,  woods  and  a  stream,  all  its 
own. 


192  Pleasures  of  Ownership 

A  child  is  instinctively  a  landholder.  When  he 
is  able  to  comprehend  such  distinctions  it  is  more 
or  less  of  a  shock  to  him  to  be  made  aware  that  his 
parents  are  tenants  and  do  not  own  their  home. 
He  suffers  a  loss  of  self-respect,  and  'his  father  loses 
dignity  in  his  eyes.  But  the  best  thing  that  can 
'be  done  for  him  is  to  give  him  a  slip  of  ground, 
making  over  the  right  of  it  to  him  so  far  as  we  can 
do  so.  In  his  present  pleasure  he  loses  sight  of 
future  contingencies,  and  his  little  heart  swells  with 
the  pride  of  possession. 

This  is  especially  applicable  to-boys  in  the  coun- 
try. Farmers'  sons  might  not  be  so  anxious  to 
leave  home  and  seek  city  life  if  they  were  allowed 
to  feel  a  personal  interest  in  their  fathers'  farms, 
and  had  liberty  to  experiment  and  carry  out  some 
of  their  own  plans.  Girls  enjoy  gardening,  but  it 
is  natural  that  their  desire  for  land-owning  should 
be  less  strong  than  their  sense  of  appropriation 
of  a  portion  of  the  house.  While  they  are  very 
small,  say  six  or  eig'ht  years  old,  they  will  be  de- 
lighted to  take  upon  themselves  a  small  part  of 
the  household  responsibility;  and  a  judicious 
mother  will  take  advantage  of  this  pliable  period 
to  cultivate  in  her  daughters  a  liking  for  domestic 
pursuits. 

No  cooking  school  or  sewing  school  can  equal 
an  old-fashioned  home  kitchen,  w'here  the  mother 


Pleasures  of  Ownership  193 

herself  sets  the  example  of  industry,  and  gives  in- 
structions in  methodical  work.  But  the  children's 
interest  will  be  greatly  enhanced  by  being  made 
owners  of  their  utensils  and  implements.  Give  to 
one  the  charge  of  the  Sunday  tea  when  Bridget  is 
out,  and  present  her  with  a  little  teapot  and  tea- 
kettle with  the  understanding  that  she  is  to  take 
care  of  them.  Let  another  small  maid  have  a  para- 
phernalia for  cake-making,  and  another  one  a  dust- 
brush  and  carpet-sweeper. 

We  cannot  expect  children  to  like  work  for  its 
own  sake  any  better  than  we  do  ourselves;  but 
they  can  at  least  be  prevented,  by  judicious  man- 
agement, from  conceiving  a  distaste  for  the  work 
that  they  will  certainly  find  necessary  sometime 
in  their  lives,  and  they  will  have  a  chance  to  acquire 
ideas  of  methodical  management,  which  ideas  are 
lamentably  lacking  in  many  of  our  young-lady 
graduates  from  cooking  classes  and  parlor  lectures 
upon  kitchen  work. 

Industry  is  a  cardinal  virtue  in  a  man  or  woman, 
and  the  early  signs  of  it  in  a  child  ought  to  be  en- 
couraged. The  perpetual  repression  it  is  deemed 
needful  to  make  him  undergo,  and  that  really  is  es- 
sential to  the  comfort  of  grown  people  under  our 
ordinary  arrangements,  has  the  efifect  of  converting 
a  bright  and  active  child  into  a  stupid  and  indolent 
one.    What  a  mortal  pity  it  is  that  in  this  vast  world 


1 94  Pleasures  of  Ownership 

there  is  so  little  room  for  the  majority  of  children 
to  expand  into  perfect  childhood  !  They  are  born 
into  an  environment  fatal  to  their  health  and  hap- 
piness, where  such  incessant  activity  as  is  natural 
to  young  animals  is  a  nuisance,  and  hearty  frolick- 
ing a  social  crime.  But  let  us  do  the  best  we  can 
for  them,  and  give  them  some  opportunities  to  use 
their  legs,  arms,  and  lungs. 

The  children  of  our  day  are  not  repressed  in  the 
same  way  that  the  children  of  a  former  age  were, 
but  they  are  in  danger  of  being  drilled  to  death. 
Some  sage  observers  complain  that  spontaneity 
and  frankness  are  dying  out,  but  that  is  only  a 
repetition  of  criticisms  which  Socrates  made. 
These  charming  qualities  are  always  on  the  point 
of  vanishing  before  the  approach  of  systematized 
culture,  but  they  are  still  with  us,  because  they  are 
born  afresh  with  every  child.  They  belong  to  a 
period  of  life.  All  that  we  have  to  do  is  to  give 
them  a  little  room. 


The  singular  notion  most  mothers  have  that  the  teachers 
have  entire  charge  of  the  systematic  education  of  their  chil- 
dren is  shown  by  their  letting  the  long  summer  vacations 
pass  without  an  efTort  to  advance  in  knowledge  the  young 
persons  whom  they  seem  to  regard  as  wards  of  the  school. 
"The  poor  things  are  tired  of  books,  let  them  rest,"  is  the 
excuse  for  this  neglect.  Tired  of  books,  yes;  but  are  they 
tired  of  learning  ?  Can  they  stop  learning  even  if  they 
wish  ?  Will  these  two  or  three  months  pass  in  positive 
stagnation,  leaving  no  trace  on  their  minds  ?  On  the  con- 
trary, the  mind,  if  less  energetic,  is  more  impressionable 
in  warm  weather,  and,  while  our  children  are  supposed  to 
be  resting  or  running  wild,  they  are  storing  up  many  ideas 
and  growing  every  day  mentally  as  well  as  physically.  A 
little  orderly  instruction,  pleasantly  given,  would  be  a  boon 
to  them.  Let  the  indolent  mother  rouse  herself  and  think 
of  some  study  that  can  be  taken  up  as  a  pastime.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  bring  in  books,  unless  the  mother  herself  knows 
too  little  to  teach  without  them.  But  it  certainly  is  a  re- 
flection upon  an  intelligent  parent  to  send  a  child  back  to 
school  after  three  months  of  her  own  society,  knowing  no 
more  than  he  did  when  he  came  home. 


The  Moral   Sense 

There  can  be  no  invariable  age  set  for  a  child 
to  begin  school.  Many  considerations  individual 
to  each  child  must  be  taken  into  account.  But  in 
general,  and  provided  the  home  training  is  what 
it  should  be,  the  later  he  begins  the  better.  One 
of  the  most  highly  cultured  men  I  know  has  spent 
but  seven  years  of  his  life  at  school,  and  five  of 
those  were  at  a  foreign  university.  He  escaped 
the  long,  tedious  drill  that  most  of  us  are  com- 
pelled to  undergo,  through  happily  having  a 
mother  capable  of  conducting  his  early  education. 
Not  all  mothers  are  able  or  have  the  time  to  devote 
themselves  to  this  noble  work,  but  that  case  is  in- 
deed deplorable  when  the  child  is  given  over  to 
the  care  of  others  merely  because  the  mother  finds 
his  training  a  burden. 

In  no  case  should  a  tot  under  seven  be  sent  to 
a  regular  school.  If  there  is  no  kindergarten  con- 
venient, let  the  baby  run  at  large,  supervised  by  his 
parents,  in  his  experimentations.      In  these  days, 

when   science  primers  abound   and  books   upon 

196 


The  Moral  Sense  197 

natural  history  are  made  so  entertaining,  there  is 
scarcely  any  excuse  for  a  mother's  not  acquainting 
herself  with  the  lore  that  above  all  others  attracts 
and  enchains  children.  Natural  history  is  the  basis 
of  rational  education.  But  it  should  be  rationally 
taught.  Do  not  puzzle  a  small  child  with  fine- 
spun distinctions  nor  burden  his  memory  with 
mere  names.  What  he  wants  is  to  find  out  what 
things  ore,  what  they  are  made  of,  and  their  uses. 
If  he  is  encouraged  to  investigate  and  allowed  to 
collect  plants,  minerals,  and  what  he  calls  "  pretty 
things,"  he  will  be  placed  at  the  beginning  of  his 
life  in  right  relations  with  nature;  will  learn  to 
regard  study  as  a  delightful  process,  instead  of  a 
task;  and  will  early  begin  to  exercise  his  faculties 
for  himself,  instead  of  clinging  weakly  and  blindly 
upon  the  knowledge  of  others. 

In  one  of  Miss  Alcott's  sensible  books — "  The 
Rose  in  Bloom,"  I  think — there  is  a  delightful  lit- 
tle episode  in  the  baby  foundling's  life,  when  her 
guardian,  a  college  youth  of  more  than  ordinary 
judgment,  brings  the  child  pocketfuls  of  pine  cones, 
fairy  mosses,  and  shells  and  bits  of  glittering  quartz 
as  playthings,  that  she  may  begin  her  acquaintance 
with  life  from  the  natural  and  not  the  artificial 
standpoint.  Of  course  the  lisping  tot  will  ask 
questions  that  will  be  harder  to  answer  than  the 
talk  suggested  by  the  ordinary  playthings  that  imi- 


198  The  Moral  Sense 

tate  the  every-day  life.  And  the  mother  should  be 
prepared  to  meet  her  little  one  on  its  own  ground. 
Any  intelligent  woman  can  with  a  little  diligence 
learn  enough  of  natural  history  to  constitute  her- 
self the  companion  and  teacher  of  her  young  chil- 
dren. And  if  the  task  is  not  congenial — and 
strangely  enough,  it  is  not  always  congenial — she 
will  have  her  reward  in  an  increase  of  influence 
and  authority.  Children  submit  readily  to  those 
who  are  wise  in  the  matters  they  care  most  about, 
and  they  willingly  and  lovingly  defer  to  those  who 
give  them  sympathy  and  comradeship  in  their 
work  and  play. 

The  two  cardinal  points  in  the  education  of  Per- 
sian lads  in  the  time  of  Cyrus  were  ''  to  draw  the 
bow  and  to  speak  the  truth."  The  essentials  of 
physical  education  have  changed  with  the  passage 
of  centuries,  but  we  have  not  improved,  nor  is  it 
possible  to  improve,  upon  the  moral  code  so  long 
ago  adopted  and  regarded  as  fundamental.  Truth- 
fulness is  the  root  from  which  grow  all  beauties  and 
graces  of  character.  It  is  impossible  to  be  truthful 
and  be  otherwise  bad,  for  badness  is  accompanied 
by  self-delusion,  and  the  person  who  is  accustomed 
to  face  the  truth  is  made  aware  every  moment  of 
his  exact  standing,  and  can  no  more  shun  self- 
knowledge  than  he  can  deceive  others.  Experi- 
enced educators  say  that  they  never  despair  of  a 


The  Moral  Sense  199 

naughty  child  unless  he  is  a  confirmed  liar.  The 
child  who  meets  your  eye  boldly  and  directly,  who 
"  owns  up  "  unflinchingly,  is  amenable  to  reason 
and  can  be  won  by  candor  and  justice.  But  I  am 
not  sure  that  truthfulness  is  a  virtue  natural  to  all 
temperaments.  Certainly  it  is  necessary  to  culti- 
vate it  in  the  germ,  and  the  first  wavering  impulses 
a  child  shows  towards  honest  and  candid  conduct 
should  be  tenderly  encouraged,  and  the  roughness 
and  brusqueness  which  are  apt  to  appear  at  the 
same  time  with  definitive  honesty,  pruned  and 
smoothed  without  injuring  the  perfect  bloom  be- 
neath the  burrs. 

We  should  aid  children  to  understand  and  appre- 
ciate truth.  One  way  in  which  this  can  be  done 
is  by  insisting  upon  accurate  statements.  The 
habit  of  repeating  a  message  in  the  precise  words 
in  which  it  was  given,  of  describing  locations  and 
circumstances  with  absolute  fidelity,  is  of  great 
value.  In  childhood  each  single  impression  is 
vivid  enough,  but  relations  are  cojifused.  We 
should  help  a  child  to  bring  order  into  all  this  con- 
fusion of  sights  and  sounds;  show  him  how  events 
are  connected  one  with  another,  and  that  the  world 
does  not  move  by  him,  as  he  supposes,  like  a  wild 
merry-go-round,  but  proceeds  according  to  fixed 
laws.  If  he  realizes  that  things  have  a  regular 
fanner  of  maving,  he  will  see  that  there  is  a  regu- 


200  The  Moral  Sense 


lar  way  of  describing-  them,  and  that  careless,  loose, 
exaggerated  lang-uage  is  not  capable  of  conveying 
the  right  impression. 

But  we  are  ourselves  responsible  for  much  of 
the  exaggeration  that  children  indulge  in.  They 
catch  up  our  superlatives,  and  build  their  notions 
upon  our  ecstasies  and  prejudices.  If  grown  peo- 
ple w^ould  cut  out  two-thirds  of  the  adjectives  from 
their  ordinary  conversation,  children  would  think 
more  clearly  and  talk  more  simply.  And  it  would 
also  be  well  if  the  little  ones  were  not  obliged  to 
hear  arguments  and  discussions.  When  the  per- 
sons a  child  most  respects  contradict  one  another, 
it  is  apparent  to  him  that  somebody  is  wrong — in 
other  words,  "  tells  a  story  ";  and  he  goes  out  feel- 
ing that  it  is  not  important  how  he  states  a  thing, 
since  there  are  several  ways  of  stating  all  matters. 

Ah,  let  us  take  great  pains  not  to  bewilder  a  lit- 
tle child's  moral  sense  !  We  may  excuse  the  trans- 
parent, innocent  romancing  which  makes  many 
mothers  uneasy.  This  telling  of  fairy-tales  is  a 
natural  phase  of  life,  and  all  imaginative  children 
pass  through  it.  The  important  point  is  to  teach 
the  child  never  to  say  a  thing  with  the  deliberate 
intention  of  deceiving;  and  if  this  is  to  be  accom- 
plished we  must  never  deceive  him  in  the  smallest 
particular,  never  break  a  promise  made  to  him,  nor 
allow  him  to  break  one  to  us.     But  we  must  be 


The  Moral  Sense  201 

merciful  about  exacting  promises,  for  to  an  in- 
experienced little  one  everything  is  possible,  and 
he  is  eager  to  engage  himself  for  what  he  may  not 
be  able  to  perform. 


Has  any  mother  ever  thought  of  a  "  picture  diary  "  for 
her  child  ?  Most  children  are  fond  of  recalling  events,  and 
this  little  device  affords  possibilities  both  of  entertainment 
and  profit.  Let  the  mother  take  a  blank  composition  book 
and  have  a  bottle  of  mucilage  and  a  pen  ready.  Every  eve- 
ning have  the  child  bring  something,  a  leaf,  a  fern,  a  daisy, 
or  a  bit  of  ribbon  that  it  has  worn  during  the  day — anything 
that  can  serve  to  recall  the  day's  experience — and  paste  it 
at  the  head  of  a  page,  writing  the  date  and  a  few  words  of 
explanation  below  it.  What  a  treasure  it  will  be  in  long 
winter  evenings,  and  how  many  stories  can  be  told  over 
again  of  the  little  trips  and  excursions,  the  "  tea  parties  on 
the  big  rock,"  and  all  the  other  enjoyments  of  the  past 
months  !  With  a  little  ingenuity  a  mother  can  enlarge  upon 
this  suggestion  and  furnish  the  child  with  an  inexhaustible 
journal  of  his  experience,  which  will  cultivate  his  memory 
and  help  him  entertain  his  young  friends. 


An  Office  of  Motherhood 

A  GOOD  deal  of  "  straining  at  gnats  "  is  going 
on  at  present  among  educators,  which  is  the 
reason,  perhaps,  why  some  old-fashioned  duties  are 
overlooked. 

The  first  natural  duty  of  a  mother  is  to  protect 
her  young;  to  create  around  it  a  shelter  in  the 
midst  of  which  the  tender  thing  can  grow,  secure 
from  shocks,  and  seeing  and  hearing  only  what  is 
good  for  it  to  see  and  hear.  Nature's  evident  in- 
tention is  to  give  a  newly  born  creature  into  the 
hands  of  the  mother  as  one  able  and  willing  to 
make  for  it  a  soft,  warm  nest,  where  no  dis- 
turbing agent  can  enter  to  work  harm.  The 
mother  who  goes  away,  except  under  dire  neces- 
sity, and  leaves  her  little  one  unprotected,  is  a  de- 
serter, whether  she  belongs  to  the  bear  or  seal  fam- 
ily or  to  that  privileged  portion  of  the  human 
family  admitting  membership  in  a  fashionable  club. 

Our  progress  from  simple  living  to  our  present 
state  has  increased  the  obligations  of  motherhood. 
The  more  dangers  threatening,  the  greater  neces- 
sity for  watchfulness;  the  more  highly  strung  and 
sensitive  the  child,  the  more  need  for  an  exercise  of 

?o3 


204  An  Office  of  Motherhood 

maternal  care  to  ward  off  everything  liable  to  dis- 
turb nerves  so  finely  attuned  that  a  slight  jar  may 
cause  a  lasting  shock. 

It  is  often  thought  that  the  first  year  of  life  is 
such  a  vegetative  period  that  any  moderately  de- 
cent person  may  supervise  the  uninteresting  infant 
past  the  staring,  drooling  stage,  and  the  intelligent 
mother,  fitted  by  education  for  higher  uses,  take 
charge  of  it  when  the  fluttering  efforts  at  imitation 
of  grown-up  associates  give  warning  that  more 
artistic  models  than  the  nurses  of  its  infancy  should 
be  supplied. 

But  this  is  a  mistake.  The  human  infant  is,  to 
be  sure,  usually  born  deaf  and  blind,  and  is  divided 
at  first  by  the  wall  of  its  inert  senses  from  the  world 
it  enters;  although  there  are  instances  where  care- 
ful prenatal  training  has  had  the  effect  of  advanc- 
ing foetal  development  greatly.  In  one  case  a  baby 
girl  showed  that  she  could  hear  when  but  eleven 
hours  old,  manifested  sensitiveness  to  light  at  three 
hours,  and  when  five  days  old  had  gained  a  perfect 
understanding  of  the  words,  "  Stop  crying  and  I'll 
take  you  up,"  always  becoming  quiet  after  they 
were  uttered  by  a  person  standing  beside  her  crib. 

This  child  was  almost  continually  under  the  eyes 
of  her  parents;  yet  one  day,  when  she  was  taken 
out  at  the  age  of  seven  months  by  an  apparently 
discreet  and  careful  servant,  she  returned  in  a  state 


An  Office  of  Motherhood  205 

of  high  excitement,  for  which  the  attendant  could 
or  would  give  no  explanation.  For  three  days  she 
was  nervous  to  the  border  of  hysteria.  Then  a 
neighbor  called  upon  the  mother  and  related  that 
the  baby  had  been  thrown  from  her  carriage,  for- 
tunately onto  a  snow  pile,  but  the  servant  had  kept 
her  out  until  all  signs  of  her  fright  should  have  died 
away,  concealing  the  slight  wound  on  the  'baby's 
forehead  by  puHing  her  hair  over  it.  Only  the 
tenderest  care  restored  the  child  to  her  normal  state 
of  calm,  and  it  took  ten  days  for  this.  Under  or- 
dinary circumstances  the  shock  would  probably 
have  brought  on  brain  fever  in  a  baby  of  such  deli- 
cate organization. 

It  may  seem  impossible  that  an  entire  life  can  be 
so  easily  marred,  that  one  evil  shadow  can  cast  a 
black  and  lasting  curse;  but  there  are  natures  so 
sensitive  that  no  ordinary  care  will  suffice  for  their 
protection  during  the  most  impressionable  period. 
This  is  why  the  study  of  psychology  is  helpful  to 
mothers.  By  learning  the  signs  of  fear  in  a  young 
child,  and  knowing  how  to  distinguish  true  fear 
from  wilfulness,  they  will  be  able  to  exert  a  sooth- 
ing and  protecting  influence  at  the  right  moment, 
and  avert  danger  whose  consequences  are  serious 
almost  beyond  belief  in  the  case  of  our  highly  or- 
ganized, excitable  modern  children. 

Instead  of  recognizing  the  duty  of  protection, 


2o6  An  Office  of  Motherhood 

which  implies  shielding  the  infant  from  every 
harmful  influence,  a  mother  not  seldom  uses  terror 
as  a  means  of  subduing  a  refractory  spirit.  But 
it  is  quite  possible  to  train  a  child  to  obedience 
without  playing  upon  his  timidity,  and  when  we 
reflect  that  most  of  the  misconduct  that  takes  place 
in  the  world  is  either  directly  or  indirectly  the  re- 
sult of  moral  cowardice,  it  will  seem  worth  while  to 
guard,  as  if  it  were  a  precious  treasure,  a  child's 
serenity  of  mind.  A  sturdy,  straightforward,  ro- 
bust mental  outlook — how  delightful  it  is  !  I 
recollect  an  exhibition  of  it  in  a  little  girl  who  once 
came  to  our  house  on  a  visit.  She  was  a  healthy, 
rosy-cheeked  child,  with  clear,  light  blue  eyes,  whose 
confident  gaze  seemed  able  to  penetrate  to  the  root 
of  any  matter  that  people  might  try  to  make  a 
mystery  of.  Somebody,  with  an  occult  liking  for 
sensations,  brought  forth  for  her  entertainment  a 
book  full  of  weird  pictures,  anticipating  a  shriek 
when  a  certain  hideous  portrait  of  a  skeleton  was 
reached.  But  little  Minnie  looked  at  the  thing 
with  that  frank  curiosity  which  shows  the  entire 
absence  of  misgivings,  and  remarked,  with  a  slight 
accent  of  disdain: 

"  I  know  what  that  is;   that's  old  skin-bones  !  " 

A  few  years  later  this  young  girl,  then  grown  to 

strong,    fearless    maidenhood,    captured    a    negro 

burglar  hiding  under  her  bed,  and  held  him,  with 


An  Office  of  Motherhood  207 

the  aid  of  a  younger  but  equally  courageous  sister, 
until  their  screams  had  brought  assistance  and  the 
man  was  given  in  charge  of  the  police. 

Possibly  this  is  the  conduct  of  natures  inherently 
devoid  of  fear,  and  not  to  be  expected  where  the 
physical  and  mental  calibre  is  of  a  more  delicate 
sort.  Yet  I  have  known  instances  of  daring  in 
little  creatures  of  the  most  sensitive  temperament, 
imaginative  and  easily  startled  from  their  self-pos- 
session, but  with  nerves  of  steel  when  their  heroism 
was  actually  put  to  the  test.  A  truly  brave  heart 
will  overcome  its  natural  tremors  in  times  of  real 
danger,  and  put  down  resolutely  all  recollections 
that  render  the  present  more  formidable.  But 
what  an  effort  this  requires  only  those  who  have 
exerted  all  their  will-power  to  overcome  the  de- 
moralizing effect  of  some  nervous  shock  can  real- 
ize. Life  makes  demands  upon  us  for  continual 
acts  of  fortitude,  and  what  the  fearless  nature  does 
easily  and  unconsciously,  the  child  or  grown  per- 
son whose  past  contains  a  haunting  experience, 
must  do  with  pain  and  dif^culty. 

Happily,  the  telling  of  ghost-stories  is  no  longer 
a  regular  nursery  entertainment.  In  the  days  of 
Addison  this  practice  was  so  common  that  he  was 
led  to  express  his  views  about  it  in  the  Spectator. 
"  Were  I  a  father,"  he  said,  "  I  should  take  par- 
ticular care  to  preserve  my  children  from  those  lit- 


2o8  An  Office  of  Motherhood 

tie  horrors  of  the  imagination  which  they  are  apt  to 
contract  when  they  are  young,  and  are  not  able  to 
shake  off  when  they  are  in  years.  ...  I  look  upon 
a  sound  imagination  as  the  greatest  blessing  of  life, 
next  to  a  clear  judgment  and  a  good  conscience." 

But  it  is  the  mother,  rather  than  the  father,  who 
is  called  upon  to  secure  this  blessing  to  her  chil- 
dren. She  ought  to  begin  away  back  in  the  begin- 
ning— with  the  very  first  surroundings  of  the  new- 
born infant.  Let  it  find  its  early  life  peaceful, 
quiet,  and  unhurried.  And  when  infancy  merges 
into  that  older  period  when  young  faculties  are 
springing  forward  in  rapid  development,  and  each 
day  the  little  one  takes  on  more  of  the  hue  of  its 
larger  fellow  creatures,  let  her  be  doubly  careful 
that  no  untimely  scare  stunts  its  intelligence. 

It  is  said  that  to  be  afraid  of  shadows  is  an  in- 
evitable passing  experience  of  childhood.  Yet  I 
know  one  small  toddler  who  never  has  shown  any 
such  disposition,  but  whose  great  delight  is  to  play 
with  her  own  shadow  and  other  shadows,  when  the 
lights  are  brought  in  each  night.  She  is  a  pecu- 
liarly sensitive,  sympathetic  little  thing,  and  could 
easily  be  made  timid  by  unwise  treatment.  But 
under  the  sheltering  care  of  fond  and  judicious 
parents,  she  is  remarkable  for  "  not  knowing  what 
it  is  to  be  afraid";  and  although  she  is  given  to 
unpleasant  dreams,  as  many  young  children  are, 


An  Office  of  Motherhood  209 

and  often  awakens  with  a  start,  a  low  word  or 
touch  soothes  her  into  serenity,  and  she  passes  her 
days  singing  and  dancing  from  the  pure  joy  of  Hfe. 
Happy  above  others  is  the  Httle  child  who  thinks 
of  his  mother  as  a  veritable  refuge  from  trouble,  a 
bulwark  against  danger,  and  a  sympathizing  pres- 
ence at  all  times.  It  is  asking  a  great  deal  of  a 
woman  to  exact  such  faithful  care.  Mothers  are 
neither  omniscient  nor  tireless,  and  must  of;:en  call 
in  assistance  to  relieve  their  watch.  But  let  such 
substitutes  be  tried  and  trusted  friends.  The  at- 
mosphere of  peace  we  labor  to  create  must  never 
be  disturbed  by  a  suspicion  of  storm  if  our  children 
are  to  grow  in  it  to  that  excellent  attitude  of  cour- 
age which  is  the  basis  of  truth,  of  generosity,  and 
of  self-control. 


There  is  a  certain  law  in  intellectual  training  which  is 
recollected  seldom.  It  is  this:  children  ought  to  be  in- 
formed about  matters  when  they  want  to  know,  and  not 
when  we  think  it  proper  to  teach  them.  Ninety-nine  times 
out  of  a  hundred  they  are  snubbed  for  asking  questions, 
and  the  hundredth  time  they  are  rebuked  for  not  taking  more 
interest  in  what  we  wish  them  to  learn.  He  is  a  wise  teacher 
who  understands  that  the  proper  moment  for  imparting 
knowledge  is  when  a  child  is  moved  to  ask  for  it.  Says 
Tennyson:  "In  children  a  great  curiousness  is  well,  who 
have  themselves  to  learn,  and  all  the  world." 


Curiosity 

If  all  the  wonders  of  this  world  should  break 
suddenly  and  without  preparation  upon  a  full- 
grown  man,  his  mind  would  faint  under  it.  The 
commonest  things,  apparently  without  cause, 
would  seem  miraculous.  Knowing  no  laws  of 
nature  he  would  attempt  outrageous  feats,  and  ex- 
haust all  his  energies  to  satisfy  his  curiosity.  Hap- 
pily we  grow  into  knowledge  gradually,  so  that 
this  cannot  happen. 

Yet  something  a  little  like  it  happens  every  day 
in  a  child's  life.  He  opens  his  eyes  at  dawn  and 
watches  the  streak  of  sunlight  steal  through  the 
window  and  strike  athwart  the  ceiling,  and  ques- 
tions crowd  themselves  upon  his  mind.  What 
keeps  the  line  so  narrow?  why  doesn't  it  break  and 
scatter  all  over  the  room  ?  Why  is  it  on  that  side 
of  the  house  in  the  morning  and  on  the  other  side 
in  the  evening  ?  He  assails  the  first  person  he 
meets  with  these  queries  and  with  twenty  others 
succeeding.  His  little  brain  is  alert  and  eager. 
There  are  so  many  queer  things.  He  wants  very 
much  to  know  why  his  goblet  of  water  "  sweats," 
and  why  people  have  to  wear  clothes;    what  use 

an 


2 1  2  Curiosity 

flies  are  (a  puzzler  !),  and  why  babies  can't  walk 
just  as  well  as  grown  people. 

Thoughts  rush  through  his  mind  in  a  disorderly- 
procession;  everything  starts  him  off  on  a  new 
track.  His  confusion  is  pitiable.  He  is  like  a  per- 
son suddenly  introduced  into  a  show  where  a  dozen 
bands  are  playing  different  tunes.  He  wants  to 
hear,  see,  and  know  everything.  And  half  the  time 
somebody  responds  to  his  plaints  with  a  remon- 
strating, ''  Don't  be  silly."  It  is  as  if  they  said: 
"  Don't  be  natural,  don't  be  a  child." 

We  take  pleasure  in  showing  the  beauties  of  our 
home  to  strangers  and  in  listening  to  their  admir- 
ing exclamations.  And  if  it  grows  monotonous 
we  recollect  the  duties  of  hospitality.  But  a 
child's  situation  is  analogous  to  that  of  a  guest. 
We  hold  the  stores  of  knowledge  and  are  familiar 
with  the  mysteries;  he  clamors  to  be  let  in  and 
shown  about.  He  seems  unreasonable,  and  the 
other  affairs  of  life  are  urgent. 

How  hard — how  almost  impossible  it  is  for  a 
grown  person  to  recall  his  own  youthful  feelings 
at  the  moment  he  is  dealing  with  a  child  !  And 
how  different  would  be  many  incidents  of  their 
lives  if  our  memories  could  bring  up  stronger  im- 
pressions of  the  sufferings  we  have  outlived. 

Does  not  Nature  know  what  she  is  doing  when 
she  makes  imagination  riotous  in  children  ?     The 


Curiosity  213 

little  things  scrambling  up  on  our  knees  with  their 
eyes  and  ears  wide  open  and  their  restless  tongues 
chattering  have  been  projected  into  a  strange 
world — a  world  of  facts,  and  they  want  to  under- 
stand their  reason  for  being. 

Children  see  everything  and  comprehend  com- 
paratively nothing,  so  their  query  nearly  always  is 
—not,  "  What  is  it  ?  "  but  "  Why  is  it  ?  "  Their 
instinct  falters  about  in  the  darkness  for  a  govern- 
ing principle,  a  law,  and  nothing  else  can  satisfy. 
And  herein  is  a  wide  difference  in  the  perceptions 
of  children.  Some  are  born  utilitarians,  while 
others  are  born  lovers  of  beauty  and  pleasure.  A 
pair  of  bright  eyes  will  turn  indififerently  away  from 
a  beautiful  object  to  ask  succinctly,  "  What  is  it 
for  ?  "  while  another  child  will  be  charmed  with 
the  sight  of  exquisite  forms  and  colors,  betraying 
a  purely  sensuous  gratification.  Thus  early  in  life 
is  drawn  the  sharp  line  between  the  scientific  and 
artistic  qualities. 

A  mother  who  sees  each  day  some  odd  manifes- 
tation, ponders  silently  over  these  things  and 
learns  to  perceive  the  extreme  diversity  of  her  chil- 
dren's natures,  although  often  it  remains  incom- 
prehensible. It  is  the  problem  of  her  life  to  divide 
her  attention  justly  between  conflicting  claimants: 
to  satisfy  the  sober,  anxious  demands  of  the  eldest- 
born  whose  brow  is  puckered  with  thought,  and  to 


2  14  Curiosity 

quiet  without  grieving  the  youngest  chatterbox 
who  would  Hke  to  hang  upon  her  skirts  all  day 
reiterating  the  same  notes  of  interrogation. 

She  asks  herself  sometimes  if  a  mother  really  is 
expected  to  be  an  encyclopedia,  and  is  inclined  to 
say  petulantly,  "  Go  to  your  father,"  or  "  Go  to 
your  teacher."  But  this  is  a  delicate  point  in  man- 
agement. To  the  child  his  mother  is  all-wise,  and 
she  ought  to  be  cautious  of  shaking  that  sweet  con- 
fidence. It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  children  will 
be  reasonable  in  the  demands  upon  their  friends' 
time  and  strength.  What  do  they  know  about 
such  matters  until  they  are  taught  ?  The  dis- 
criminating mother  will  recognize  when  a  crisis  is 
at  hand,  when  a  mental  revolution  is  taking  place 
in  her  child,  and  his  whole  nature  is  wrought  up 
to  a  pitch  of  earnestness,  and  when  he  is  merely 
trifling.  It  is  necessary — of  all  things — that  chil- 
dren should  never  be  confused  or  confounded. 
They  can  appreciate  a  frank  confession  of  igno- 
rance when,  as  often  happens,  their  questions  are 
too  deep  for  their  hearers.  But  a  parent  ought 
not  to  say  "  I  don't  know  !  "  merely  because  he  is 
lazy  and  indisposed  to  think. 

Miss  Muloch  has  a  pretty  little  anecdote  in  one 
of  her  stories  which  sounds  natural.  Little  "  King- 
Arthur's  "  mother  was  obliged  to  plead  ignorance 
as  to  the  working  of  locomotives,  and  to  her  excuse 


Curiosity  215 

he  responded  gravely:  "  But,  mamma,  you  ought 
to  know  !  "  And  this  little  reproof  sent  his  loving 
mother  to  books  to  repair  her  omission.  Happy 
the  child  whose  mother  is  so  faithful.  The  mo- 
ments we  spend  in  acquiring  knowledge  to  impart 
to  our  children  are  well  employed,  for  a  child 
should  be  taught  chiefly  by  conversation  and  sel- 
dom directly  from  books. 

The  plea  most  mothers  will  make  to  this — that 
they  have  not  time — should  be  translated  into  one 
that,  in  many  instances,  would  be  more  candid: 
they  have  not  inclination.  The  author  recalls  a 
little  experience  which  took  place  years  ago  when 
she  was  pursuing  a  course  of  elocution  in  college. 
A  young  man  who  belonged  to  the  class  excused 
himself  from  rehearsal  on  the  plea  of  "  no  time," 
when  she  had  the  impulse  to  turn  to  him  and  say: 
"  You  mean  you  don't  want  to.  People  always 
find  time  for  whatever  they  really  zvant  to  do."  A 
few  days  afterward  the  gentleman,  who  was  a  busy 
law  student,  came  to  her  and  said  frankly,  "  Do 
you  know  what  you  said  haunted  me  ?  I've  been 
thinking  about  it,  and  I  believe  it  is  true.  Half 
the  time  our  excuses  of  '  lack  of  time  '  are  petty 
evasions.  We  can  do  what  we  take  a  hearty  in- 
terest in." 

Who  doubts  that  the  utmost  pains  is  none  too 
much  to  bestow  upon  the  development  of  a  young 


21 6  Curiosity 

mind  ?  A  mother  should  feel  that  her  vocation  is 
supreme.  Civilized  society  is  hard  upon  women  in 
some  ways.  Women  are  hard  upon  themselves. 
They  want  to  be  perfect  in  household  duties  and  in 
social  duties,  and  to  be  mothers  also.  But  to  be 
a  worthy  mother,  completely  faithful  to  her  duties, 
is  a  life-work  for  any  woman.  Let  her  do  what 
she  can  besides;  that  comes  first.  Success  in  every 
other  way  cannot  compensate  for  the  loss  of  influ- 
ence with  our  children.  Mothers  sometimes  feel 
this  bitterly  when  it  is  too  late.  She  who  leads  a 
little  child  toward  light  and  knowledge  gains  an 
unbounded  influence  over  him.  The  history  of  all 
great  men  usually  begins  with  a  loving,  earnest 
mother.  The  boy's  eager  questions  are  often  keys 
he  presents  to  unlock  the  mysteries  of  his  nature. 


Persons  of  large,  portly  presence  make  a  remarkable  im- 
pression sometimes  upon  the  youthful  mind.  The  author 
recalls  two  incidents  in  point.  One,  of  a  tiny  maid  of  half  a 
dozen  years,  who,  sitting  demurely  beside  her  father  in  a 
public  conveyance,  watched  with  round-eyed  amazement  an 
immensely  fat  man  take  his  place  opposite,  then  whispered 
to  her  father  in  that  penetrating  "  stage  whisper "  always 
audible  to  company,  "  Oh,  papa,  is  that  the  man  that  ate  the 
church  and  ate  the  steeple  and  ate  the  tower  and  all  the 
people  ?  " 

The  other  was  something  similar,  but  this  was  a  little 
boy  of  three  who,  aboard  an  electric  car  for  the  first  time, 
was  impatient  to  be  ofi.  Being  told  that  they  could  not  start 
until  a  load  was  made  up  he  sat  quietly  for  a  moment  or 
two,  until  a  fleshy  woman,  elegantly  dressed  in  flowing 
draperies  which  had  the  efifect  of  greatly  increasing  her  ap- 
parent bulk,  sailed  in  and  settled  herself  upon  the  middle  of 
the  opposite  seat.  The  tot  gazed  at  her  solemnly  for  a  sec- 
ond, then,  raising  his  voice,  called  to  the  conductor,  "  The 
car's  full  now  ;   you  can  go  on  ! " 


Nursery  Note-books 

Notwithstanding  the  great  amount  of  talk 
that  has  been  going  on  of  late  about  "  the  child  " 
— as  if  he  were  a  rare  specimen  of  some  newly  dis- 
covered species  ! — very  few  mothers  are  in  the 
habit  of  performing  the  simple  and  reasonable  duty 
of  keeping  a  nursery  note-book.  If  one  has  had 
a  scientific  training,  and  is  inclined  to  be  extremely 
methodical  and  painstaking,  a  daily  record  may  be 
made  of  the  advance  the  little  one  makes  in  the 
development  of  perceptive  faculties,  in  the  acquisi- 
tion of  language,  and  the  taking  on  of  those  habits 
which  bring  him  nearer  to  our  own  standard  of 
what  an  intelligent  being  gets  to  be  through  imi- 
tation of  the  models  put  before  him.  Such  a  series 
of  observations,  carried  into  the  most  minute  and 
trivial  details,  would  be  a  more  satisfactory  per- 
formance in  the  opinion  of  the  "pedagogical 
school  "  than  the  natural  and  unstudied  method  of 
journal-writing  that  comes  easy  to  the  average 
mother.  But  it  is  questionable  if  it  would  be  more 
valuable,  except  in  the  way  of  supplying  data  to 
the  psychologists  who  are  giving  their  energies  to 

solving  the  problem  of  the  mind  of  the  child. 

218 


Nursery  Note-books  219 

They  find  it  desirable  to  enlist  the  aid  of  mothers 
in  making  observations,  and  one  of  them  has  flat- 
teringly declared  that  the  best  method  scientists 
can  make  use  of  is  less  sure  than  the  "  sympathetic 
insight  "  of  a  mother;  but  another  utters  the  naive 
complaint  that  it  is  difficult  to  induce  a  mother  to 
make  scientific  experiments,  as  it  means  depriving 
the  child  temporarily  of  the  advantages  of  educa- 
tion; that  is,  converting  him  into  a  passive  instru- 
ment. 

We  may  then  let  these  vivisectionists  of  child- 
nature  carry  on  their  brave  experiments  with  their 
own  children  and  such  stray  ones  as  they  can  cap- 
ture. Science  has  its  own  great  fields;  all  fields 
are  in  a  way  its  own,  but  it  is  not  conspicuously 
present  everywhere,  nor  indispensable  to  some  of 
the  sweet  and  natural  usages  of  life. 

The  experimenting  of  mothers  is  not  of  the 
formal  order;  it  is  usually  unconscious,  always  sub- 
ordinate to  the  greater  end  of  child-training,  and 
does  not  deliberately  go  out  of  its  way  in  the  in- 
terest of  the  public  welfare.  I  recollect  a  pretty 
story  told  by  Holm  Lee,  of  a  child  born  to  a  wise 
man,  who  was  inclined  to  look  upon  the  young 
creature  as  a  curiosity,  and  invited  his  friends,  all 
wise  men,  to  hold  a  council  over  him  and  deter- 
mine w^hat  qualities  he  possessed  and  what  his  fu- 
ture career  was  likely  to  be.     They  put  the  baby 


2  20  Nursery  Note-books 

in  their  great  tobacco-box,  and  smoked  over  him 
and  talked  about  him  for  quite  a  while,  till  Lupine, 
his  mother,  and  his  old  nurse  grew  uneasy,  and, 
breaking  in  upon  the  council,  seized  the  baby  and 
ran  away  with  him.     What  mother  wouldn't  ? 

There  is  a  vast  deal  of  nonsense  about  the  inves- 
tigations professed  "  child-culturists  "  are  making, 
and  their  note-books  contain  some  stufif  so  puerile 
and  inane  that  it  is  surprising  that  the  men  and 
w^omen  of  really  superior  minds,  who  belong  to  the 
pedagogical  school,  should  go  on  devoting  them- 
selves to  an  occupation  so  little  creditable  to  their 
common  sense.  When  all  the  trash  is  sifted  out 
there  will  doubtless  remain  much  that  will  be  valu- 
able to  students  of  human  nature. 

It  is  chiefly  for  her  own  instruction  and  guidance 
that  a  mother  needs  to  keep  some  kind  of  nursery 
note-book.  For  the  refreshment  of  her  memory, 
when  patience  is  likely  to  fail,  and  for  the  reawa- 
kening of  dulled  sympathy  with  childish  moods,  as 
well  as  for  the  enlightenment  of  others  to  whom 
she  may  choose  to  impart  her  experiences,  the  re- 
sults of  her  labor  will  more  than  repay  her  for  the 
trouble  taken.  She  need  follow  no  rules,  nor  even 
attempt  to  make  regular  entries,  unless  she  has  in- 
clination for  the  task.  Facts  bearing  upon  physi- 
cal variations  are  extremely  valuable,  and  it  is  wise 
to  note  the  weight  and  growth  of  a  child  at  regular 


Nursery  Note-books  221 

intervals,  to  ascertain  whether  he  is  developing 
normally.  Even  more  important  are  observations 
upon  his  general  health,  temperament,  disposition. 
and  the  use  he  makes  of  his  faculties.  Although 
the  mother  herself  may  not  be  aware  of  the  stand- 
ard he  should  attain,  her  statement  of  facts  may 
give  the  clue  to  a  physician  when  puzzling  symp- 
toms show  themselves.  Often  deafness  and  de- 
fects of  vision  might  'be  prevented  if  the  early  signs 
of  their  coming  on  had  been  heeded.  A  single 
incident  might  have  sufficed  to  set  a  skilled  prac- 
titioner upon  the  right  track,  if  the  mother  had 
written  down  at  the  time  an  account  of  the  pecu- 
liarity that  attracted  her  attention,  which  after- 
wards is  not  recalled. 

A  note-book  of  this  sort,  begun  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible after  a  child  is  born,  will  be  a  profitable  em- 
ployment for  any  mother's  leisure  moments. 
Some  conscientious  young  mothers  have  their 
physician  or  nurse  write  down  the  most  important 
facts  bearing  upon  their  child's  physical  life,  from 
the  hour  of  its  birth,  and  take  up  the  narrative 
themselves  as  soon  as  they  can. 

It  is  pleasant  to  know  just  when  our  baby  be- 
came conscious  of  sound  ;  when  sensitiveness  to 
Hght  manifested  itself,  and  to  watch  the  gradual 
awakening  of  the  sleeping  senses  of  a  young  human 
being  who  enters  life  so  inert  and  helpless.  Women 


222  Nursery  Note-books 

who  have  but  slight  knowledge  of  the  science  of 
life  may  yet  learn  in  a  short  time  enough  to  make 
the  growth  of  a  little  child  as  interesting  as  a 
drama.  The  "  divine  comedy  "  begins  anew  with 
the  birth  of  every  child,  and  it  is  the  great  privi- 
lege of  motherhood  to  be  admitted  into  close  com- 
munion with  the  infant  star  performer,  so  that  his 
slightest  movements  may  reveal  to  her  loving 
watchfulness  something  not  suspected  by  indif- 
ferent observers. 

If  the  early  days  of  an  infant's  life  are  full  of  in- 
terest, how  much  more  fascinating  the  pretty  pla}- 
becomes  as  the  baby  develops  individuality  and 
begins  that  lisping  language  which  is  his  first 
attack  upon  the  barrier  that  divides  him  from  the 
grown-up  world  !  Before  the  dawn  of  any  history 
the  mother-heart  was  the  page  where  love  wrote 
with  "his  wings  of  light";  nor  has  he  ceased  to 
flutter  golden  drops  upon  the  same  fair  sheet.  But 
the  fondest  mother  lets  treasures  of  memory  slip 
away  from  her,  and  she  should  try  to  keep  secure 
records  of  matters  she  will  some  day  think  of  great 
account. 

The  narrative  of  a  child's  sayings  and  doings, 
written  down  from  the  partial  standpoint  of  affec- 
tion, are  a  romance  of  history,  instinct  with  the  life 
and  spirit  that  make  the  character-drawing  of  the 
poet  and  novelist  so  much  more  vivid  and  signifi- 


Nursery  Note-books  223 

cant  than  the  dry  outlines  of  the  historian.  A 
single  incident  in  a  person's  life  may  give  the  key- 
note of  his  character,  and  the  unconscious  dis- 
closures the  young  child  makes  of  his  heart  and 
mind  are  often  the  strongest  likenesses  that  can  be 
taken  of  him  at  different  periods.  No  mother 
should  neglect  to  write  down  the  more  striking 
events  that  take  place  in  the  nursery.  If  every 
mother  took  the  trouble,  there  would  grow  up  a 
rich  literature  of  childhood,  and — let  us  say  to 
those  who  are  lamenting  the  present  puerility  of 
American  literature — nobody  would  have  to  read 
this  lore  of  young  human  nature  unless  he  was 
interested  in  it. 

Of  mere  text-books  of  child-study  there  are  now 
a  great  number,  many  drearily  abstruse,  a  few  in- 
structive and  concise.  Those  wdio  wish  to  learn 
the  salient  facts  about  a  baby's  normal  develop- 
ment cannot  select  a  better  guide  than  the  Httle 
book  of  Preyer's  entitled  "  Infant  Mind."  It  says 
much  in  little  space,  and  gives  all  needed  informa- 
tion without  going  into  tiresome  detail.  Really 
sympathetic  studies  of  child-nature  are  much  more 
rare,  but  among  them  Sully's  "  Studies  of  Child- 
hood "  ranks  high.  It  is  a  book  to  hide  in  the 
family  mending-basket  and  dip  into  now  and  then 
as  one  finds  time.  We  need  to  have  our  respect 
for  the  distinct  personality  of  little  people  quick- 


224  Nursery  Note-books 

ened  now  and  then,  for  the  habit  of  swallowing 
up  their  small  lives  in  our  own  is  a  pernicious 
legacy  from  stern  old  times  that  we  have  not  yet 
laid  aside.  "  Child-study  "  has  become  a  fad,  and 
as  objects  of  investigation  little  ones  are  treated 
with  a  flattering  deference  that  threatens  to  pass 
into  subserviency;  but  we  fail  still  in  the  true  re- 
spect that  recognizes  the  pure  moral  quality  of 
innocent,  unspoiled  human  nature. 

Keeping  a  nursery  note-book  is  one  of  the  best 
ways  of  reminding  ourselves  that  children  are  not 
a  different  species,  nor  an  inferior  species,  but  only 
ungrown  men  and  women,  with  faults  and  virtues 
like  our  own;  subject  to  moods,  full  of  eccentrici- 
ties, and  in  need — as  we  ourselves — of  a  judge  like 
the  one  craved  by  the  Irishman:  one  that  will  not 
be  overstrict,  but  will  "  lean  a  Httle." 


We  acquire,  while  we  are  children,  not  only  the  use  of 
words  but  a  choice  of  expressions,  and  these  expressions 
cling  to  us.  Certain  terms  of  speech  are  often  the  occasion  of 
annoyance  to  men  and  women  who  find  it  almost  impossible 
to  break  themselves  of  bad  habits  fixed  in  their  early  years. 
Children  should  not  be  allowed  to  use  slang.  It  is  the  great 
foe  to  good  breeding.  He  whose  speech  is  slovenly  will 
be  loose  in  more  important  particulars,  while  the  person 
who  has  accustomed  himself  to  pause  and  arrange  what  he 
has  to  say  that  it  may  be  fittingly  uttered,  will  be  careful 
in  other  points  of  breeding.  Children  take  kindly  to  cor- 
rection of  their  mode  of  speaking,  for  in  that,  more  than 
almost  anything  else,  they  know  themselves  fallible,  and  a 
vulgar  or  ungrammatical  expression  should  not  go  un- 
checked. This  is  one  of  the  matters  that  will  be  governed 
almost  entirely  by  home  training.  No  technical  knowledge 
of  grammar  will  save  a  child  whose  surroundings  are  rough 
and  low,  from  a  rough  and  vulgar  way  of  talking. 


Dialect  in  the  Nursery 

The  question  whether  "  dialect  "  stories  are  to 
continue  popular  has  a  particular  importance  for 
children.  Juvenile  periodical  literature  is  as  much 
under  the  sway  of  a  fashion  that,  when  allowed 
to  run  to  excess,  must  be  considered  pernicious,  as 
are  the  larger  magazines.  Most  of  the  otherwise 
admirable  periodicals  for  young  people  teem  with 
slang,  provincialisms,  and  awkward  phrases. 

Low  life  is  so  graphically  depicted,  the  news- 
boy, the  bootblack,  and  the  canal-boat  girl  are 
drawn  so  much  to  the  life,  with  all  their  imperfec- 
tions of  speech  in  their  mouths,  that  it  is  to  be 
doubted  whether  the  child  can  rise  from  the  perusal 
of  these  stories  without  being  more  or  less  satu- 
rated with  the  dialect.  The  effect  is  the  same,  in 
its  influence  upon  his  own  language,  as  if  he  had 
spent  the  hour  in  the  company  of  street-gamins, 
receiving  through  the  medium  of  his  ears,  instead 
of  his  eyes,  an  acquaintance  with  slang. 

Mature  minds  may  descend  into  these  slums 
without  smirching  the  purity  of  their  speech,  al- 
though this  is  doubtful.  The  Writer  magazine  re- 
cently related  an  amusing  incident  of  a  well-bred 

226 


Dialect  in  the  Nursery  227 

woman  who  shocked  her  family  at  the  breakfast 
table  by  lapsing  Into  some  remarkable  idioms,  and 
who  gave  as  her  excuse  that  she  had  spent  the  pre- 
vious evening  reading  dialect  stories,  and  had 
fallen  under  their  influence.  If  the  habits  and 
training  of  years  can  be  so  revolutionized,  how 
much  more  readily  will  children,  whose  tastes  are 
in  the  transition-stage,  be  bewitched  by  the  forceful 
phrases  whose  peculiarly  engaging  quality  Is  that 
they  are  almost  wholly  emotional,  and  express  the 
simplest  Ideas  and  feelings  with  ease  ! 

But  few  parents  care  to  have  their  little  sons  and 
daughters  Import  their  every-day  conversation 
from  the  pages  of  dialect  literature.  There  is,  in- 
deed, some  surprise  shown  as  to  where  certain  ob- 
noxious expressions  can  have  been  learned,  and 
ungrammatlcal  phrases  are  sharply  reproved,  while 
slang  Is  deplored  as  an  effect  of  bad  associations. 

Truly  so.  But  the  bad  associations  may  not 
have  been  living  comrades.  Any  one  who  will 
critically  examine  current  juvenile  literature  will 
find  that  within  the  past  ten  years  there  has  been 
a  falling  off  In  literary  style  among  popular  writers 
for  the  young.  That  great  breeze  which  a  woman 
of  genius  stirred  up  In  the  Tennessee  mountains 
has  Inspired  many  lesser  authors,  desirous  of  being 
noted  for  breezlness  and  vigor,  in  efforts  of  emu- 
lation which   too   often   are   lamentable   failures. 


228  Dialect  in  the  Nursery 

And  when  the  rural  district  was  well  worked,  the 
slums  began  to  be  explored;  and  now  we  have 
hosts  of  grimy,  unlettered  little  heroes  and  hero- 
ines stalking  at  large  through  the  pages  of  litera- 
ture, attracting  the  admiring  attention  of  our  chil- 
dren, whom  we  carefully  send  to  school  to  learn 
to  speak  and  write  English. 

There  is  a  little  inconsistency  here.  How  can 
we  expect  any  child  to  be  totally  uninfluenced  by 
what  he  reads  ?  And  is  it  not  one  of  the  great 
functions  of  literature  to  cultivate  a  reader's  taste 
and  elevate  his  habits  of  speaking  and  thinking  ? 
There  should,  be  amongst  wise  parents  a  strong- 
sentiment  against  dialect  literature  for  children. 
An  occasional  idiom  may  be  suffered,  but  the  ten- 
dency which  is  showing  itself  nowadays  to  repro- 
duce in  all  speeches  the  peculiarities  of  the  speakers 
cannot  but  counteract  in  great  measure  the  bene- 
fits gained  from  occasional  good  reading.  For 
young  people  like  periodicals  as  well  as  their 
parents  like  them.  They  look  forward  to  their  il- 
lustrated weekly  or  monthly  with  as  much  eager- 
ness as  older  persons  show  for  the  possession  of 
their  pet  magazines  and  papers;  and,  since  read- 
ing makes  so  large  a  part  of  their  enjoyment,  it  is 
an  essential  matter  to  furnish  them  with  reading 
wdiich  will  exert  a  good  influence  in  every  way. 

It  is  admitted,  by  those  whose  particular  busi- 


Dialect  in  the  Nursery  229 

ness  it  is  to  cater  to  youthful  tastes,  that  nothing 
is  more  difiicult  than  to  write  good  stories  for  chil- 
dren. But  while  the  dear  old  classics  of  Haw- 
thorne and  Kingsley  and  Lamb  remain  to  us  we 
need  not  give  them  trash.  And  dialect  has  be- 
come only  a  "  fad."  It  is  surely  not  necessary,  in 
order  to  be  entertaining,  to  be  crude,  startHng,  or 
vulgar.  If  children  like  their  little  dishes  hot  and 
well  spiced,  it  is  the  fault  of  writers  who  aim  *;o 
supply  what  is  racy  rather  than  what  is  pure  and 
delicate,  and  who  endeavor  to  make  up  for  a  lack 
of  imagination  by  grotesque  combinations. 

I  know  from  experience  that  there  is  in  the  heart 
of  every  child  a  craving  for  "  the  true,  the  good, 
and  the  beautiful,"  overlaid,  as  it  may  be,  by  ac- 
quired roughness,  and  that  even  the  little  child  who 
comes  out  from  the  meanest  and  most  sordid  sur- 
roundings will  respond  quickly  to  the  touch  of 
fancy's  wand,  and  yield  entranced  attention  to  leg- 
ends and  romances  skilfully  adapted  to  his  under- 
standing. 

We  need  not,  then,  quite  yet,  fall  back  upon  the 
vulgar  and  sensational  as  nursery  literature. 


In  an  old,  old  story  which  is  obsolete  in  this  generation 
there  was  an  anecdote  of  a  little  baby  princess  who  was  lost 
in  a  park  and  fell  in  with  a  tiny  peasant  maid  with  whom 
she  made  friends  in  sweet,  childish  fashion,  and  was  found 
by  her  distracted  governess  sitting  with  her  arms  around 
her  new  acquaintance,  pouring  confidential  disclosures  into 
the  plebeian  ears.  There  is  in  the  child  heart  a  natural  im- 
pulse toward  universal  friendliness,  which  is,  however,  too 
soon  destroyed  under  the  false  distinctions  we  teach  children 
to  draw. 


The  Spirit  of  Christmas 

English  literature  possesses  but  one  great 
Christmas  story,  Charles  Dickens'  "  A  Christmas 
Carol."  It  stands  above  all  others  as  Christmas 
day  itself  towers  majestically  over  all  the  other  days 
in  the  year.  Certain  elderly  gentlemen,  who  are 
not  reconciled  to  our  twentieth-century  material- 
ism, tell  me  that  they  retire  to  their  own  rooms  on 
each  twenty-fifth  of  December  and  read  the  inimi- 
table "  Carol  "  over  again.  From  such  enthusiasts 
one  would  expect  a  remarkable  exhibition  of  the 
true  Christmas  spirit,  an  almost  reckless  abandon- 
ment of  self  and  pocketbook  to  the  demands  of 
the  occasion.  Yet  I  have  observed  in  them  rather 
less  zeal  in  giving  than  criticism  of  the  present 
fashion  of  holiday-keeping,  and  the  suggestion  will 
thrust  itself  forward  that  any  shelter  which  self 
throws  up  against  good  fellowship  with  the  best 
the  present  offers  is  a  flimsy  disguise  of  inward 
niggardliness,  not  less  pitiable  nor  less  in  need  of 
reform  than  Scrooge  himself. 

Because  we  cannot  have  the  Yule  log  and  tradi- 
tional roast  pig,  shall  we  refuse  the  cheer  of  anthra- 
cite coal  and  baked  turkey  ?     Or  if  even  the  open 

231 


232  The  Spirit  of  Christmas 

fire,  the  mistletoe,  and  the  family  gathering  are 
beyond  us,  must  we  disdain  the  home-making  at- 
tempts of  the  steam-radiator,  and  find  no  comfort 
in  the  dainty  elaborateness  of  a  well-spread  table 
catering  to  the  needs  of  refined  modern  taste  ? 
Suppose  the  misanthrope  (for  the  recluse  who  lives 
only  in  an  imaginary  Christmas  is  a  misanthrope) 
came  out  of  his  shell  and  gathered  the  young  peo- 
ple about  him  to  charm  their  ears  with  tales  of 
the  old  ways  of  holiday-keeping  '"'  when  he  was  a 
boy."  Would  not  this  be  better  than  grumbling 
out  protests  against  the  new  ways  that  have  their 
own  reasons  for  being,  and  offer  in  turn  their  own 
measure  of  enjoyment  to  willing  spirits  ?  Genial 
old  age  is  always  a  welcome  presence,  and  it  never 
suggests  any  contrasts  that  put  us  out  of  conceit 
with  the  pleasures  that  lie  within  our  reach.  But 
carping,  even  if  it  proceeds  from  the  patriarch,  is 
an  infliction  severe  enough  to  blight  any  holiday. 
In  the  nature  of  things  there  must  be  holidays. 
How  poverty-stricken  is  that  soul  which  does  not 
recognize  this  necessity  and  throw  itself  heartily 
into  the  work  of  helping  forward  the  good  time 
youth  and  all  unspoiled  minds  accept  with  grati- 
tude !  There  is  no  predeterminate  set  of  condi- 
tions for  holiday-making  that  need  tie  adventurous 
hands,  and  if  traditional  customs  belonging  to 
Thanksgiving  and  Christmas  are  vanished  beyond 


The  spirit  of  Christmas  233 

recall,  we  can  harmonize  the  day  with  our  present 
abilities. 

My  sympathy  is  with  those  who  wish  to  bring 
back  upon  Christmas  day  the  sweet  old  traditional 
observances.  I  love  them  well,  even  those  that 
are  known  to  me  only  by  hearsay  and  were  out- 
grown in  that  shadowy  period  alluded  to  as  "  be- 
fore the  war."  But  no  one  thing  is  indispensable 
to  happiness  with  any  of  us,  unless  with  children, 
and  not  even  with  them  if  judicious  substitute  is 
made.  Whatever  we  have,  or  whatever  we  lack, 
the  quality  that  makes  the  occasion  is  the  spirit  we 
bring  to  it.  Good  will  never  fails  to  create  a  good 
time.  It  finds  merit  in  rain,  lifts  fog,  and  lights 
a  cheery  blaze  within  that  passes  for  the  sunshine 
in  its  absence.  And  good  will  has  not  passed  away 
wath  chivalry,  nor  perished  under  the  onrush  of 
science.  It  lives  and  breathes  now,  and  is  here  at 
this  moment  to  light  our  Christmas  fires  and  swing 
incense  before  our  altars.  All  we  need  do  is  to 
recognize  and  adapt  it,  even  as  old  Scrooge  did 
when  he  fiung  up  his  window  to  inhale  the  crisp, 
sparkling  air,  and  embrace  all  humanity  in  his 
overflowing  thankfulness  that  the  time  wa.s  still  his 
own  to  redeem  his  useless  past. 

I  hope  none  of  us  has  such  a  past  to  redeem. 
Very  few  people  have  not  at  some  time  in  their 
lives  labored  to  brighten  the  lives  of  the  poor  or 


234  The  Spirit  of  Christmas 

bring  joy  to  children.  No  dearer  privilege  is  ours 
than  this.  Children  are  easily  made  happy  if  one 
understands  them.  Not  what  we  give  them  so 
much  as  what  we  do  for  them  insures  their  grati- 
fication. They  want  our  sympathy,  our  com- 
panionship, our  hearty  co-operation  in  what  inter- 
ests and  engrosses  them.  Perhaps  this  is  one 
feature  of  the  Santa  Claus  myth  that  endears  it  to 
these  young  monopolists.  The  idea  of  a  benefi- 
cent saint  who  is  all  their  own,  literally  devoted  to 
their  interest,  is  entrancing. 

The  tendency  of  our  day  is  to  pull  down  this 
idol  and  let  in  a  prosaic,  every-day  light  upon  the 
rosy  glamour  of  fairyland.  But  at  what  a  cost  is 
this  initiation  into  practical  truths  accomplished  ! 
Childhood  is,  par  excellence,  the  age  of  faith  and 
love,  and  these  two  combined  create  a  region  of 
beauty  where  miracles  of  heroism  and  generosity 
are  accepted  as  natural  happenings.  All  too  soon 
must  our  little  ones  learn  the  caution  and  calcula- 
tion that  teach  us  to  expect  just  so  much  as  we 
confer,  and  make  of  life  a  sad  afifair  of  barter  and 
exchange.  Do  we  not  hear  ten-year-old  Alice  re- 
cite her  obligations  to  her  schoolmates  for  so  many 
bonbons  and  illuminated  cards,  and  lament  with 
candid  avarice  that  she  has  been  overreached  in 
her  transfer  of  presents  ?  And  our  wise  eldest- 
born,  listener  to  too  many  councils  as  to  the  family 


The  Spirit  of  Christmas  235 

exchequer,  betrays  a  selfish  determination  to  exact 
his  due  to  the  utmost,  that  is  much  less  manage- 
able and  altogether  more  ignoble  than  the  most 
extravagant  demands  of  credulous  youngsters 
upon  the  exhaustless  bank  of  Santa  Claus. 

But  modern  children  are  wise  so  early  that  they 
scarcely  carry  out  of  their  cradles  the  credulity  that 
once  kept  them  serenely  unobservant  of  the  clumsy 
aids  we  offered  to  their  pretty  fancies.  Most  of 
the  elaborate  embroidery  about  the  bare  fact  that 
there  once  lived  a  benevolent  Saint  Nicholas  who 
gave  good  gifts  to  children  has  been  wrought  from 
the  imagination  of  the  children  themselves.  Give 
an  ingenious  child  a  single  idea  as  a  basis  and  he 
imagines  a  whole  epic.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
destroy  that  foundation,  and  all  he  has  dreamed, 
constructed,  and  cherished  falls  to  pieces,  carrying 
something  with  it  that  it  is  a  pity  to  deprive  him 
of,  indeed;  that  calm  acceptance  of  the  marvellous 
which  grows  later  on  into  lofty  self-abnegation  and 
the  courage  that  knows  "  no  such  word  as  '  fail.'  " 
Yes,  from  the  ranks  of  imaginative  children,  credu- 
lous to  a  fault  of  all  the  myths  of  fairy  lore,  is  re- 
cruited the  army  of  workers  in  the  higher  realms 
of  the  world.  Faith  is  the  germ  from  which  genius 
grows.  We  may  well  strive  to  preserve  in  them 
at  least  the  tendency  to  "  believe  all  things,  hope 
all  things,"  and  if  Santa  Claus  ceases,  <by  the  time 


236  The  Spirit  of  Christmas 

they  can  pronounce  his  name,  to  be  a  veritable  per- 
sonage, and  fairyland  has  become  something  more 
shadowy  than  the  golden  castles  reared  in  the 
clouds  every  sunset,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  enough 
of  the  power  to  create  illusions  still  survives  to 
glorify  plain  matters  of  fact  that  have  scarcely  of 
themselves  a  welcome  aspect. 

Little  cynics  are  abhorrent  to  all  lovers  of  child 
nature;  infant  skeptics  pitiable  in  their  inca- 
pacity to  exult  over  pretty  fables  and  innocent 
illusions.  Tell  children  the  truth,  if  we  must  tell 
them  everything  in  its  naked  simplicity,  but  do 
not  let  us  force  them  out  of  childhood's  natural 
realm,  full  of  verisimilitudes  flashing  in  rainbow 
hues  into  our  logical  but  calculating  atmosphere. 
The  delight  of  youth  is  innocent,  transparent  exag- 
geration. Holiday-time  presupposes  leaving  off 
customary  pursuits  and  the  abandoning  one's  self 
to  impulses  that  need  not  be  greatly  distrusted  if 
they  spring  from  good  hearts. 

Herein  persons  whose  daily  lives  are  not  too  rich 
in  pleasures  have  an  advantage  over  satiated  favor- 
ites of  fortune.  They  can  enjoy  because  they  can 
appreciate  the  contrast  between  working  days  and 
holidays.  And  if  we  would  give  zest  to  our  chil- 
dren's merry-making,  let  them  embrace  some  en- 
joyments that  are  rarely  experienced.  A  little 
excess  is  craved  at  times  by  all  of  Adam's  frail 


The  Spirit  of  Christmas  237 

children.  No  prudent  elder  will  encourage  the 
total  abandonment  of  the  checks  that  control  appe- 
tite, and  yet  the  Christmas  feast  is  an  inevitable 
accompaniment  of  the  splendid  day;  and  just  as 
matron  and  master  prepare  themselves  to  groan  a 
little  internally,  when  the  holiday  is  past,  for  their 
self-indulgence,  the  smaller  ones  must  have  their 
hour  of  forgetfulness  and  their  subsequent  resolves 
of  future  moderation;  for  this  is  part  of  life's 
training.  And  slowly  would  our  training  proceed 
if  we  did  not  have  occasion  to  bring  ourselves  up 
smartly  at  times  for  our  over-relaxations. 

Gift-making  is  one  of  the  most  gracious  features 
of  Christmas,  and  one  that  I  pray  may  survive  all 
other  outgrown  customs.  When  love  and  sym- 
pathy are  close  counsellors  there  is  little  fear  that 
we  shall  make  the  mistake  of  leaving  out  of  our 
little  one's  stocking  the  particular  thing  he  has  set 
his  heart  upon  getting.  And  if  his  choice  is  be- 
yond us  to  gratify,  let  us  come  as  near  to  it  as  we 
can,  and  not  convert  this  season  into  a  sort  of  con- 
venience for  ourselves,  thrusting  upon  his  reluctant 
acceptance  such  prosaic  articles  as  shoes,  hats,  and 
other  essentials  of  the  toilet.  Far  prettier  is  the 
German  custom  of  bestowing  gaudy  trifles  that 
have  no  use  in  themselves,  but  are  part  of  the  glit- 
ter and  fashion  of  the  holiday.  When  it  is  pos- 
sible, nothing  is  so  good  to  have  as  the  traditional 


23B  The  spirit  of  Christmas 

Christmas  tree.  In  after-years  memory  hangs 
about  it  fondly,  and  we  bless  in  our  hearts  the  kind 
hands  that  took  so  much  trouble  to  give  us 
pleasure. 

Then  the  stocking  hung  up  on  Christmas  eve 
has  a  romance  all  its  own.  The  breakfast-table 
dressed  with  holly-berries  and  gifts  piled  under 
snowy  napkins  is  a  graceful  custom,  and  is  far 
nicer  than  the  blunt  handing  out  of  our  gifts. 
Some  trouble  should  be  taken  to  create  the  wel- 
come element  of  surprise.  We  all  like  it,  but  it  is 
one  of  the  greatest  delights  in  a  child's  experience. 
He  finds  out  before  we  would  choose  to  have  him 
that  what  is  looked  forward  to  most  eagerly  seldom 
turns  out  well.  It  is  sad  philosophy,  yet  true,  that 
it  is  dangerous  to  set  one's  heart  on  anything  in 
this  world.  But  the  love  that  hides  its  intention 
until  the  hour  of  fulfilment,  and  then  lets  out  its 
secret  in  an  outburst  of  generosity,  is  the  best  sub- 
stitute that  is  ever  offered  for  the  special  Provi- 
dence— Santa  Claus,  and  all  other  gracious  myths. 

An  example  of  generosity  is  seldom  lost  upon 
children  if  its  true,  not  artificial.  They  are  very 
willing  to  live  up  to  their  little  knowledge,  if  we 
allow  them  the  chance,  and  part  of  our  duty  to  the 
day  is  to  encourage  in  our  young  people  the  same 
kindliness  we  cultivate  in  ourselves.  It  is  so  much 
easier  to  learn  in  youth  to  be  genial,  sympathetic, 


The  Spirit  of  Christmas  239 

and  generous  than  it  is  after  embittering  experi- 
ences have  hardened  our  hearts.  Fresh,  unspoiled 
natures  readily  take  to  themselves  the  lesson  of  the 
Christmas  Carol,  and  to  children  Bob  Cratchit's 
holiday  is  a  perfect  picture,  lacking  in  no  element 
that  is  essential  to  a  good  time.  Heaven  pity  the 
sophisticated  ones  that  find  it  too  simple  and  primi- 
tive for  their  taste!  Yet  if  our  means  are  ample, 
let  us  not  be  frugal  in  our  preparations  at  this  sea- 
son of  lavish,  free-handed  giving.  Dickens'  Christ- 
mas spirit  of  to-day  v^^as  no  niggard,  and  looking 
upon  him  we  must  forget  to  reckon  what  we  needs 
must  do,  and  instead,  do  all  we  can. 

Ah  !  that  jolly  Christmas  ghost,  with  the  holly 
wreath  upon  his  broad  brow,  the  mirth  in  his  kind 
eyes,  and  the  mountain  of  good  cheer  under  his  feet, 
to  which  of  us  has  he  not  often  appeared  in  fancy, 
fitly  representing  the  bounty  and  generosity  of  the 
ideal  Christmas-tide  ?  And  not  one  among  us  but 
can  learn  anew  from  this  inward  revelation  our 
duty  to  the  day.  "  Let  the  dead  past  bury  its 
dead;  "  we  are  concerned  with  what  belongs  to  us 
now.  The  spirit  of  Christmas  present  enjoins  upon 
us  what  every  foregoing  spirit  would  entreat,  were 
they  all  in  line  chanting  the  carol  that  is  everlast- 
ing, "  Peace  on  earth,  good  will  to  men." 


Kittens  and  puppies  that  are  members  of  large  families, 
and  have  brothers  and  sisters  to  frolic  with,  learn  to  play- 
without  scratching  and  biting.  And  the  same  remark  ap- 
plies to  children.  To  have  a  large  family  is  not  always  a 
matter  of  rejoicing  with  parents,  but  when  a  child  has  sev- 
eral brothers  and  sisters  he  is  from  the  first  in  the  natural 
position  of  being  a  member  of  a  little  community,  and  learns 
to  adjust  his  wishes  and  plans  to  the  wishes  and  plans  of 
others,  and  to  be  accommodating  and  conciliating.  It  is  as 
hard  for  an  only  child  to  be  unselfish  as  it  is  for  the  pro- 
verbial rich  man  to  go  to  heaven.  Where  a  child  is  the  only 
one  he  ought  to  be  as  much  as  possible  in  the  company  of 
other  children  that  he  may  get  the  benefit  of  their  frank 
criticism  upon  his  manners  and  habits.  The  judgment  of 
one's  peers  is  essential  to  self-knowledge. 


The  Washington   Pickaninny 

He  lives  on  the  street.  Not  on  those  beautiful 
asphalt  roads  which  are  the  great  mark  of  the  prog- 
ress made  by  the  past  ten  years  in  the  city,  but  on 
those  by-streets,  as  yet  untouched  by  the  corpora- 
tion, where  mud  abounds,  ashes  lie  about  in  heaps, 
and  tumble-down  shanties,  rented  to  pay  taxes  on 
improving  ground,  stand  as  an  eyesore  to  lovers  of 
neatness  and  order. 

Out  from  these  crowded  huts  pours  every  morn- 
ing a  tribe  of  frisking  youngsters,  dirty,  half  clothed, 
probably  hungry,  yet  bright  and  saucy-looking, 
with  the  "  peartness  "  that  is  the  distinguishing 
feature  of  the  Americanized  negro  child,  early 
thrown  out  to  make  shift  for  himself,  and  gain  by 
his  wits  that  living  the  world  owes  him.  Whether 
he  is  born  with  it,  or  whether  it  is  told  to  him  as  his 
first  lesson,  certain  it  is  that  the  toddler  of  two  or 
three  seems  to  feel,  as  he  struts  about  on  his  bowed 
legs  (nearly  all  pickaninnies  are  bow-legged),  that 
white  folks  are  his  natural  patrons  and  supporters. 
He  looks  with  admiration  upon  the  school  children 
and  accosts  them  familiarly  and  confidently,  taking 

rebuff  and  encouragement  with  the  serenity  of  a 

24a 


242       The  Washington  Pickaninny 

person  who  feels  quite  secure  of  his  own  position, 
and  sure  to  get  finally  what  belongs  to  him. 

All  this  shines  out  in  his  beady  black  eyes  and 
frankly  spread  mouth  as  he  sits  on  the  curb,  chal- 
lenging the  white  boys  to  play  marbles,  with  the 
"  shooters "  fished  out  of  the  ash-barrel,  or 
"  grabbed "  from  some  unwary  little  property 
holder.  The  darky  has  the  far  nientc  of  the 
Italian  "  gamin,"  without  the  latter's  melancholy. 
If  he  is  ever  serious  it  is  because  he  is  sullen,  brood- 
ing over  some  injury  to  his  dignity.  Generally  he 
is  cheerful  to  the  point  of  geniality.  Although  not 
much  given  to  laughing,  he  is  prone  to  mirthful- 
ness,  and  looks  at  things  from  the  humorous  point 
of  view.  He  is  the  most  companionable  of  crea- 
tures to  pass  an  idle  hour  with,  and  it  is  no  wonder 
that  white  children,  when  allowed  to  exercise  their 
taste,  gravitate  quite  naturally  to  his  society. 

The  little  darkies,  whose  parents  have  belonged 
to  the  old  dispensation  and  still  retain  their  attach- 
ment to  old  ways,  are  the  true  "  pickaninnies." 
They  are  a  mixture  of  bashfulnes  and  assurance, 
and  no  sense  of  awe  can  keep  their  impudence  in 
check. 

Thoroughly  imbued  with  the  principles  of 
"  liberty,  equality,  and  fraternity,"  it  never  enters 
their  heads  that  ragged  clothes  and  grimy  faces 
are  any  bar  to  good  society,  and  they  press  them- 


The  Washington  Pickaninny       243 

selves  quite  as  readily  upon  the  notice  of  the  young 
aristocrat  who  issues  forth  in  velvet  knickerbock- 
ers astride  a  bicycle,  as  they  would  hobnob  with 
the  Irish  newsboy.  With  even  greater  relish, 
for  the  darky  has  no  love  for  the  "  poor  white," 
and  feels  more  at  home  in  superior  circles. 

A  Northerner  can  scarcely  understand  the  free- 
masonry that  exists  South  between  the  white  chil- 
dren and  these  "  pickaninnies."  His  taste  is 
shocked,  and  liberal  opinions  to  the  contrary,  he 
shrinks  from  actual  contact  with  the  "  blacks." 
But  Southern  children  have  equally  in  their  blood 
the  instinct  of  fellowship  with  them.  They  patron- 
ize and  domineer  over  the  inferior  race  at  the  same 
time  that  they  permit  themselves  to  be  used,  as 
the  cunning  little  darkies  do  not  hesitate  to  use 
their  more  prosperous  friends.  It  is  no  unusual 
sight  to  see  a  tatterdemalion  careering  up  and 
down  the  street  on  a  borrowed  bicycle  or  toy  cart, 
while  the  youthful  owner  stands  meekly  waiting  for 
a  chance  to  use  his  own  property  again,  or  to  see 
a  talkative,  ingenious  little  darky  girl  sitting  on 
the  back  stoop  of  some  house  where  her  mother 
is  employed,  monopolizing  for  the  nonce  the  dolls 
and  tea-sets  of  her  obliging  baby  hostess,  and 
glibly  giving  her  opinion  as  to  how  things  should 
be  done. 

She  is  always  ready  for  any  situation.     Upon  no 


244       The  Washington  Pickaninny 

inducement  could  she  be  made  to  confess  her  igno- 
rance of  "  proper  ways,"  and  she  has  no  hesitation 
in  giving  lessons  to  her  companions  in  "  manners." 
"  Seems  like  you  d'know  how  ter  act,  no  way," 
will  exclaim  with  dignity  some  little  ace-of-spades, 
drawing  herself  up;  but  the  hauteur  is  only  mo- 
mentary. There  is  so  much  rollicking  humor 
about  these  children  of  the  street  that  it  breaks 
out  in  bursts  of  mimicry  and  droll  speeches,  so  that 
their  anger  seems  like  the  harmless  wrath  of 
monkeys.  Yet  they  can  be  vindictive.  There  is  a 
dark  streak  in  the  grain  of  the  African  nature 
which  shows  in  occasional  ferocity  that  appalls  the 
observer.  Emotional  creatures  always  have  it  in 
them  to  be  cruel,  and  the  darky — the  uneducated 
darky,  the  old-fashioned  stock  t>ur  et  simple — is 
wholly  emotional. 

Superstition  is  rampant.  The  small  children 
have  a  sign  for  everything,  and  will  avoid  anything 
quickly,  if  told  that  it  is  "  bad  luck."  This  makes 
it  possible  to  impose  upon  them  and  beguile  them 
into  obeying  when  they  are  inclined  to  re'bel 
against  orders.  Under  orders  they  usually  are. 
It  is  the  destiny  of  the  ignorant  to  serve,  and  the 
"  pickaninny "  unconsciously  fulfils  his  mission. 
Sometimes  he  is  dumbly  subservient,  and  some- 
times loud  in  self-assertion,  and  yet,  somehow,  in 
the  tossing  to  and  fro  of  the  social  balls,  his  is  sure 


The  Washington  Pickaninny       245 

ultimately  to  lodge  underneath.  This  may  be  be- 
cause there  is  an  awful  supremacy  which  he  realizes 
about  mind.  He  has  a  certain  jealous  respect  for 
learning,  and  particularly  at  present  when  the  ma- 
jority of  colored  children  attend  school,  and  show 
the  result  of  this  advantage  in  the  proud  display 
they  make  of  their  school-books  and  the  fragments 
of  learning.  The  injured  "  pickaninny  "  who  must 
mind  the  babies  at  home,  or  is  debarred  from  his 
schooling  otherwise,  has  a  sense  of  inferiority  that 
makes  him  the  easy  prey  of  persons  of  superior 
understanding. 

Colored  parents  are  rather  harsh  to  their  chil- 
dren. They  beat  them  into  submission  while  they 
are  babies,  and  naturally  the  young  ones  become 
liars  and  cowards.  A  truthful,  courageous  colored 
child  is  the  exception  among  the  class  we  are  deal- 
ing with.  Of  course,  the  educated  colored  family 
is  entirely  different.  The  "  pickaninny  "  is  a  selfish 
Httle  animal  from  the  start.  Otherwise  he  could 
not  survive.  All  the  conditions  are  against  him: 
In  the  shanty  smoke,  scolding,  scraps  of  food  at 
irregular  intervals,  a  bed  shared  with  three  or  four 
others,  perhaps;  cold,  dreariness,  and  discomfort 
to  the  creature  who  has  as  innate  a  love  of  luxury 
as  a  cat;  out  of  doors  nothing  of  earthly  good 
except  what  he  can  beg  or  steal.  It  is  too  much  to 
ask   them   to   be   moral.     The   old   adage   always 


246       The  Washington  Pickaninny 

seemed  to  me  erroneous:  "  Cleanliness  is  next  to 
Godliness."  Should  it  not  run,  "  Cleanliness  must 
come  before  Godliness  "  ?  Surely  this  is  common 
sense.  But  after  all,  wisdom  must  come  before 
either.  A  person  must  know  a  great  deal  before 
he  can  conceive  cleanliness.  A  f^ro/^os  is  an  anec- 
dote of  a  colored  mother  who  was  rather  a  superior 
person  in  her  class.  She  had  taught  school  once, 
land  was  now  the  sedate  wife  of  a  cartman  and  a 
"  householder."  Her  oldest  hopeful,  a  bright  boy 
of  twelve,  was  "  in  service,"  and  she  was  making  a 
call  upon  his  employer  to  talk  matters  over.  The 
lady,  a  true  Southerner  in  her  readiness  to  haul  her 
servants  up  for  misdemeanors  of  any  description, 
complained  of  the  boy's  dirtiness.  "  For  good- 
ness' sake,  Fanny,  why  don't  you  make  Will  wash 
himself  ?  " 

Fanny  had  a  way  of  drawling  when  she  was  seri- 
ous, and  leaning  forward  in  her  chair,  she  said  now 
very  impressively:  "  Mis'  Carleton,  I  know  a  man 
what  has  a  bathtub,  and  jest's  soon's  spring  comes 
(it  was  then  November)  Fm  agoin'  ter  borrer  it 
from  him,  and  give  every  one  of  them  children  a 
bath  !  "  But  Fanny  was  an  exceptionally  devoted 
mother. 

A  characteristic  of  colored  parents  is  that  they 
will  permit  no  one  else  to  abuse  their  child. 
They  are  even  more  "  touchy  "  upon   this  point 


The  Washington  Pickaninny       247 

than  white  parents,  because  of  the  memory  of 
that  time  when  the  "  massa  "  possessed  absolute 
authority  over  their  offspring,  and  they  were 
merely  the  rulers  pro  ton  until  such  time  as  their 
own  flesh  and  blood  should  be  given  over  entirely 
to  the  legal  owners.  The  simplest  remark  is  often 
construed  into  a  threat  which  they  resent. 

Civilization,  however,  will  soon  do  away  with  the 
"  pickaninny "  in  his  outward  semblance.  The 
spirit  of  him  will  survive  perhaps  for  generations, 
but  it  will  not  be  recognized.  The  fair  capital  city 
is  rapidly  spreading  its  wings  of  progress  over 
every  suburb,  and  that  portion  of  its  poor  that  it 
cannot  assimilate  it  will  drive  off.  The  "  picka- 
ninny "  will  be  sent  to  school  eventually;  he  will 
be  washed,  clothed,  and  taught  grammar,  and  to 
disbelieve  in  the  devil.  He  will  cease  his  gambols 
in  the  gutter,  and  become  a  staid  citizen  with  inde- 
pendent opinions  in  politics  that  cannot  be  bought, 
and  his  children  will  be  more  and  more  like  white 
children,  but  they  will  not  be  so  funny.  Perhaps 
not  so  jolly.  Certainly  not  so  interesting  as  they 
are  now. 


Early  in  his  career,  if  at  all,  the  child  must  learn  that 
knowledge,  success,  and  wealth  are  not  the  only  tangible 
and  valuable  things  in  life,  but  that  deep  down  where  the 
plummet  of  science  never  falls  are  springs  of  feeling  and 
wells  of  truth,  from  which  the  soul  that  would  grow  wise 
and  strong  in  its  power  to  help  others  must  continually  hope 
to  be  refreshed. 


Faith 

There  are  some  robberies  which  the  law  is 
powerless  to  punish,  and  of  which  society  takes  no 
account.  And  yet  it  were  easier  to  part  with 
goods  and  chattels  than  to  be  deprived  of  one 
thing  which  people  habitually  and  in  wanton 
thoughtlessness  take  from  little  children.  This  is 
hope.  To  be  hopeful  and  enthusiastic  is  to  believe 
in  one's  power  to  do,  and  in  the  prospect  of  suc- 
cess; it  is  to  be  buoyed  up  above  the  plodding, 
every-day  level  into  a  region  where  inspirations 
float  towards  us;  it  is  to  be  helped  and  quickened 
in  a  thousand  ways  during  trials  which  otherwise 
would  overcome  us. 

And  yet  this  mental  attitude  so  strong  to  resist 
hardships  is  of  a  poise  so  delicate  that  a  breath  of 
cynicism  coming  from  one  whose  opinion  we  re- 
spect, the  shock  of  cruel  laughter,  is  sufficient  to 
destroy  it.  Of  hope  the  poet  might  sing,  as  of  truth, 
that  crushed  to  earth  it  shall  rise  again.  But  never 
to  so  lofty  a  height.  Each  ascent  after  a  downfall 
is  feebler  than  before.  Finally  it  ceases  to  rise  at 
all,  and  the  soul  settles  down  in  that  noisome  val- 
ley of  despond  where  only  evil  things  live   and 

249 


250  Faith 

where  health,  beauty,  and  energy  rapidly  die  away. 

Whoever  discourages  a  little  one,  whoever  takes 
the  heart  out  of  his  small  enterprises  and  shadows 
his  bright  fancy  with  ill  predictions  begins  in  that 
young  mind  a  process  of  destruction  that  may  ex- 
tend to  all  its  energies.  Carlyle,  himself  the  queer- 
est compound  of  hopefulness  and  despondency, 
casts  one  of  his  Jovian  thunderbolts  at  the  crawling 
foe  whose  venom  had  eaten  into  his  own  life. 
"  For  scepticism  is  not  intellectual  only;  it  is  moral 
also;  a  chronic  atrophy  and  disease  of  the  whole 
soul.  A  man  lives  by  believing  something;  not 
by  debating  and  arguing  about  many  things.  A 
sad  case  for  him  when  all  that  he  can  manage  to 
believe  is  something  he  can  button  in  his  pocket. 
.  .  .  Lower  than  that  he  will  not  get." 

Faith,  then,  is  life.  It  does  not  so  much  matter 
what  thing  we  choose  to  do  as  that  it  should  seem 
for  us  at  the  time  the  most  important  thing  in  all 
the  world.  Work  done  in  this  spirit  is  in  some 
way  effective,  and  will  count,  although  it  may  be  in 
itself  trivial. 

Children  naturally  work  in  this  way,  and  play  in 
this  way  at  whatever  they  undertake  of  their  own 
accord,  and  it  is  a  grave  mistake  to  interrupt  and 
interfere  with  them,  to  belittle  their  self-elected 
tasks,  and  persuade  them  of  the  uselessness  and 
folly   of  something   that   may   look   to   us   inane* 


Faith 


251 


How  do  we  know  but  that  they  are  getting  from 
these  pastimes  the  ver>^  training  that  they  most 
need  ?  How  can  we  divine  the  heat  of  enthu- 
siasm, the  serious  purpose,  the  lofty  faith  that  ani- 
mate their  persevering  efforts  !  At  the  instant  we 
see  nothing  but  folly,  the  way  is  perhaps  being  pre- 
pared for  some  work  the  world  will  value;  for  long 
before  any  great  act  is  performed  the  mind  is  disci- 
plined and  attuned  to  its  purpose  by  exercises 
seemingly  little  related  to  it.  The  miniature  feats 
enacted  in  the  child-world  are  prophetic  and  pre- 
paratory for  the  life  drama  of  the  larger  future. 

Let  us,  then,  leave  to  the  child  his  enthusiasms. 
We  have  no  right  to  utter  in  his  presence  those 
dreary  axioms  with  which  we  quench  many  of  our 
own  truest  impulses.  "  Enthusiasm,"  avows  Bul- 
wer,  "  is  the  genius  of  sincerity,  and  truth  accom- 
plishes no  victories  without  it."  What  one  of  us, 
wearied  and  half  beaten  in  the  struggle  for  e.xist- 
ence,  would  not  eagerly  live  over  again,  if  it  were 
possible,  one  of  those  happy  hours  far  back  in 
youth,  when  all  our  faculties  were  alert  and  alive, 
when  the  present  seemed  desirable,  the  future 
roseate,  and  we  ourselves  godlike  in  capacity  !  An 
illusion,  perhaps,  but  it  is  out  of  such  illusions  that 
spring  inspirations  of  genius.  One  of  our  most 
brilliant  essayists  wrote  an  elaborate  treatise  once 
to  prove  that  all  the  great  work  of  the  world  had 


252  Faith 

been  conceived  and  often  begun  in  youth.  And 
it  is  certain  that  unless  the  impulse  is  given  then, 
it  never  will  be. 

The  period  comes  when  scarcely  anything  seems 
possible;  the  spirit  of  enterprise  wanes.  Lifting  up  a 
chair  to  carry  from  one  room  to  another  may  seem 
harder  than  it  would  once  have  seemed  to  have 
invented  a  new  language  or  to  have  built  the  Suez 
canal.  But  in  such  seasons  of  dulness  let  us  re- 
frain from  spreading  our  personal  disease. 

Beware,  above  all,  of  bringing  the  cloud  of 
doubt  and  discouragement  into  the  child's  inno- 
cent, fearless  eyes.  Encourage  him  to  believe  in 
the  sanity  of  his  own  faculties,  and  he  will  then 
nurse  into  sturdy  life  energy  that  may  accomplish 
something  well  worth  the  doing. 


Several  of  the  interesting  books  issued  as  "  studips "  in 
child  psychology,  reveal  the  fact  that  incidents  repeat  them- 
selves in  the  lives  of  most  imaginative  persons.  Certain 
stages  of  development  are  usually  marked  by  certain  ex- 
periences. Jean  Ingelow,  Margaret  Deland,  and  Frances 
Hodgson  Burnett  all  give  us  a.  view  of  the  strangely  sub- 
jective lives  led  by  children  under  the  semblance  of  healthy 
commonplace  activities.  They  enact  the  most  extraordinary 
dramas  under  our  very  eyes,  and  we  know  nothing  about 
them.  They  build  cities,  rehearse  the  deeds  of  their  favorite 
characters,  invent  new  languages,  and  play  all  the  fantastic 
tricks  that  an  uncurbed  fancy  can  suggest.  In  reading  some 
of  these  autobiographical  sketches  we  are  often  surprised  to 
find  that  some  incident  that  belonged  to  our  own  childhood, 
and  that  we  fondly  believed  to  be  unique,  was  an  experience 
shared  by  strangers. 


Infant  Hoodooism 

The  shadow  of  superstition  falls  darkly  upon  the 
child  of  the  South.  But  in  the  merry  fashion  of 
children  he  sports  with  it  and  turns  into  play  the 
weird  fancies  that  at  their  first  approach  chill  his 
blood  with  terror.  The  ancient  "  mammy,"  once 
a  family  institution,  has  vanished,  but  she  has  left 
her  trace.  She  whispered  secrets  to  her  grand- 
children, and  it  will  be  long  before  the  public 
school  eradicates  that  impression.  And  what  her 
white  nurslings  heard  at  her  knee  they  stored  up 
unconsciously,  to  tell  as  legends  to  their  own  off- 
spring, who  were  sure  to  have  this  fascinating  lore 
reinforced  by  mysterious  hints  from  the  colored 
servants,  who  believed  and  trembled,  even  while 
they  scouted  the  tales  of  "  ole  maum  Liza "  or 
"  maum  Nancy,"  as  the  case  might  be. 

"  Conjuring  "  is  an  art  whose  mention  strikes 
terror  to  the  hearts  of  the  blacks,  and  awes  the 
white  children  who  are  suf^ciently  under  their  in- 
fluence not  to  care  to  contradict  stories  they  do 
not  entirely  accept.  These  tales  of  "  how  de  dcbil 
'peared  to  uncle  Ike  one  night  in  de  da'ak  woods," 
or  how  "  lir  John  was  mos'  sea' at  out  o'  he  wits  by 

254 


Infant  Hoodooism  2^5 

de  figer  in  white  w'at  laid  a  spell  on  him,"  obtain 
place  in  their  memory  with  the  folk-lore  of  India 
and  Arabia  which  they  gather  from  their  fairy- 
books,  and  their  alert  imaginations  construct  of 
all  this  material  queer  little  creeds  which  they  hug 
in  secret,  and  out  of  which  spring  some  of  the 
oddest  pranks  it  could  enter  into  the  head  of  a 
child  to  play. 

It  is  almost  with  a  qualm  of  conscience  that  the 
author  turns  state's  evidence  and  draws  the  veil  of 
secrecy  which  shrouds  these  scenes  from  the  pro- 
fane gaze  of  the  unsympathetic  "  grown-up,"  and 
she  only  does  it  upon  the  express  understanding 
that  if  any  occurrence  narrated  should  be  located 
by  some  suspicious  parent,  no  penalty  is  to  attach 
to  any  little  culprit  who  shall  be  by  these  means 
found  out !  So,  bespeaking  pardon  in  advance,  the 
acknowledgment  may  follow  that  the  quiet  back 
yards  of  many  staid  and  respectable  houses  witness 
the  enactment  of  scenes  which  would  cause  the 
hair  to  rise  on  the  head  of  the  dignified  pater- 
familias, and  make  mamma  avow  that  her  innocent 
Httle  children  were  surely  bewitched.  But  for  the 
most  part,  these  exciting  performances  are  the 
work  of  a  single  agent.  Rarely  does  the  child  pos- 
sessed of  a  determination  to  exercise  the  black  art 
admit  his  dearest  friend  to  his  confidence.  Partly 
from  a  dread  of  ridicule — the   great  bugbear  of 


256  Infant  Hoodooism 

childhood — and  partly  from  the  delight  it  affords 
him  to  feel  that  he  is  in  secret  league  with  some 
awe-inspiring  power  of  the  air  or  earth,  he  pursues 
his  frightfully  pleasant  little  occupation  alone  and 
where  he  is  sure  of  being  unwatched. 

It  is  in  the  soft  air  of  the  southern  Indian  sum- 
mer, or  during  the  fervid  heat  of  the  "  dog  days," 
that  the  romantic  child,  whose  mind  is  full  of 
myths,  legends,  and  ghost-stories,  feels  inspired  to 
try  his  hand  as  a  conjurer.  The  impression  is 
strong,  as  it  once  was  with  the  men  who  persist- 
ently sought  for  the  elixir  of  life,  that  there  is 
some  happy  combination  of  circumstances,  which, 
if  he  can  catch  it,  will  endow  him  with  the  coveted 
power.  He  apprehends  that  it  is  made  up  of 
words,  gestures,  and  the  right  aspect  of  the  sun, 
or  perhaps  even  the  condition  of  the  bricks  or 
stones  in  the  walk,  which  to  his  fancy  are  full  of 
latent  life,  only  waiting  to  start  forth  at  a  mystic 
touch.  Woe  be  it  at  this  wonderful  instant,  to  the 
nurse  or  visitor,  or  even  relative,  who  shall  offend 
the  young  creature  in  the  mood  to  work  a  miracle  ! 
If  she  could  but  know  it,  she  is  in  imminent  danger 
of  being  transformed  into  a  donkey  or  even  a  dog, 
at  the  behest  of  the  little  one  who,  with  a  few  drops 
of  water  in  his  hand,  waits  for  her  to  turn  her  back 
so  that  he  may  besprinkle  her  to  the  accompani- 
ment of  some  muttered  words,  the  weirdest  and 


Infant  Hoodooism  257 

most  unlike  his  mother  tongue  that  his  wits  can 
devise  ! 

Or  it  may  be  that  leaning  from  an  attic  window 
and  holding  on  to  some  quaint  object,  whose  odd- 
ity might  well  entitle  it  to  be  the  repository  of  oc- 
cult power,  the  child  goes  through  those  "  woven 
paces  and  waving  arms  "  which  the  Arabian  en- 
chanter, as  well  as  the  fabled  Merlin  of  whom  he 
has  probably  not  heard,  made  the  prelude  to  some 
mighty  incantation.  Ever  on  the  outlook  for  the 
spell-working  thing  which  he  needs,  and  is  sure 
of  ultimately  finding,  he  eagerly  seizes  and  hoards 
whatever  has  about  it  the  slightest  tinge  of  mys- 
tery. There  was  an  old  carpenter's  level  lying 
about  in  a  certain  house,  that  had  strayed  into  the 
family  from  some  unknown  source,  and  it  was  ap- 
propriated by  a  little  girl  whose  fanciful  mind  en- 
dowed the  drop  of  mercury,  that  flowed  from  the 
end  to  the  side  of  the  stick  as  she  inclined  it,  with 
the  property  of  life.  She  convinced  herself  that  it 
was  a  fairy  imprisoned  by  an  enchanter,  and  spent 
many  an  hour  dallying  with  it  and  longing  for  the 
magic  word  which  could  set  the  captive  free. 

This  magic  word  is  a  continually  craved  posses- 
sion. The  child  feels  that  the  common  language 
of  his  country  will  not  furnish  it,  and  so  an  out-of- 
the-way  phrase  has  a  fascination  for  him,  particu- 
larly a  scrap  of  a  foreign  tongue.  One  little  creature 


258  Infant  Hoodooism 


set  a  high  value  upon  "  abracadabra  "  as  an  ex- 
pletive, and  only  lost  faith  in  it  when  repeated  trials 
under  varied  surroundings  proved  its  inefficiency 
to  transform  her  foes  into  animals,  or  stones  into 
diamonds.  Colored  waters  prepared  in  certain 
ways  are  supposed  to  have  peculiar  properties,  and 
real  witches'  broth  is  prepared  upon  occasion  by 
stewing  frogs'  legs,  brick-dust,  and — excuse  me, 
dainty  reader — earthworms.  A  never-to-be-for- 
gotten scene  took  place  in  the  far  end  of  a  garden, 
where  remote  from  help,  a  poor  little  child,  de- 
spised 'by  the  other  village  children  and  dubbed 
"  Ma'y  Jane  Crazy,"  was  half  cajoled,  half  com- 
pelled by  a  naughty  boy  to  partake  of  this  witches' 
broth,  and  in  the  momentary  consternation  which 
followed  her  swallowing  it.  the  youthful  enchanter 
tried  to  change  her  into  a  horned  owl. 

But  of  this  added  insult  the  injured  one  remained 
happily  unconscious.  It  is  to  be  remarked  that 
the  intended  victims  always  are  unconscious  of  the 
harm  essayed.  Great  would  be  their  consterna- 
tion if  they  should  wheel  around  at  some  unpro- 
pitious  moment,  and  catch  the  little  conjurer  in  the 
very  act.  There  is  upon  record  one  instance  of 
such  a  mishap  occurring,  and  the  chief  actor  long 
looked  back  to  that  day  as  the  one  of  evil  import, 
which  made  the  turning-point  in  his  life.  This 
boy  of  eleven  had  had  the  peculiar  good  fortune 


Infant  Hoodooism  259 

to  have  been  taken  care  of  by  an  old  "  mammy  " 
who  was  at  the  time  of  his  birth  a  great-grand- 
mother. Innumerable  were  the  legends  with 
which  she  filled  his  baby  ears,  and  dark  and  sig- 
nificant were  the  warnings  she  conveyed  of  what 
would  happen  to  him  if  the  "  Tom  Lofiflin  "  who 
lived  up  in  the  dormer  windows  ever  caught  him 
loitering  around  the  yard  after  he  had  been 
naughty.  Putting  her  detached  tales  together,  the 
ingenious  young  gentleman  evolved  a  certain 
philosophy  of  diabolatry  with  which  to  turn  the 
tables  on  his  ancient  guardian.  He  made  a  private 
collection  in  his  tin  treasure  box  of  such  things  as 
he  deemed  needful,  and  when  the  hour  had  arrived 
he  persuaded  "  mammy  "  to  sit  out  on  the  door- 
step in  the  gathering  dusk  of  a  strangely  sultry 
evening,  and  tell  him  her  best  ghost-story.  As 
she  grew  increasingly  enthusiastic  and  engrossed 
in  her  own  creation — after  the  fashion  of  her  tribe 
— Jim  seized  the  opportunity  to  steal  behind  her, 
and  throwing  over  her  head  a  mosquito-net 
weighted  with  stones  at  each  corner  to  keep  it 
down,  he  shouted  in  a  gruff,  and  what  he  hoped 
was  a  sepulchral  tone,  "  Get  on  your  knees,  nigger; 
I'm  Tom  Lofflin  come  to  carry  you  off  !  "  And,  as 
it  would  happen,  there  came  at  that  instant  a  vivid 
flash  of  lightning,  followed  by  a  clap  that  shook 
the  house.     The  startled  old  woman  tumbled  back 


26o  Infant  Hoodooism 

in  a  fainting  fit,  and  when  the  repentant  boy  had 
summoned  assistance  the  net  was  found  entangled 
over  her  head,  and  the  whole  naughty  plot  was  laid 
bare.  For  some  time  the  negress  vowed  that  Jim 
had  "  conju'ed  "  her,  and  the  child  really  believed 
that  he  had  done  so.  But  the  effect  being  so  seri- 
ous, he  gave  up  the  practice  of  magic,  for  which  he 
had  rare  ability,  and  settled  down  into  a  common- 
place boy. 

The  delightful  feature  of  hoodooism,  to  the 
child,  is  the  mystery  and  uncertainty  which  attend 
it.  Always  confident  that  something  is  going  to 
happen,  he  never  can  conjecture  what  it  will  be, 
or  whether  it  will  involve  him  in  unpleasant  conse- 
quences. Nothing  would  astonish  him  more  than 
to  have  some  of  his  tricks  succeed.  But  whether 
he  scrutinizes  the  gardens  and  fields  for  the  rock 
with  a  ring  in  it  which  will  reveal,  when  pulled  up, 
stairs  leading  to  fairy-land,  or  whether  he  revels  by 
night  in  masks  and  sheet  draperies,  or  goes  deeper 
into  conjuring  by  slyly  stealing  hairs  from  the 
heads  of  his  unsuspecting  relatives  to  put  through 
some  process  which  will  give  him  power  over 
them,  the  child  of  all  climes  has  it  in  him  to  be,  as 
the  child  of  the  South  pre-eminently  is,  an  infant 
hoodooist. 


"Children,"  says  some  one  who  evidently  sympathizes  with 
the  feelings  of  a  little  one  perpetually  goaded  beyond  his 
inclinations,  "  should  never  be  hurried.  When  a  child  is 
old  enough  to  go  to  school,  is  early  enough  for  him  to  learn 
that  time  is  valuable.  When  it  is  little,  let  it  develop  slowly 
and  naturally,  expanding  its  life  as  deliberately  as  the  rose 
or  lily  unfolds  its  buds." 


The   Passing  of  Childhood 

At  fourteen  or  fifteen  the  "  May  I  ?  "  of  the 
child  changes  into  the  less  deferential  "  Shall  I  ?  " 
or  "  Would  you  ? "  of  youth,  and  our  young 
daughter  and  son  begin  to  avoid  the  necessity  of 
asking  leave  to  carry  out  their  wishes.  They  are 
not  so  ready  as  they  were  a  little  while  ago  to  ex- 
plain all  their  plans,  nor  do  they  show  so  much 
anxiety  for  our  co-operation.  It  is  the  tale  of  in- 
fancy repeated.  Yesterday  baby  clung  tenaciously 
to  the  mother's  outstretched  finger,  not  daring  to 
loosen  his  grasp  for  an  instant,  as  his  little  feet 
made  the  circuit  of  the  room;  to-day  he  stands 
alone  and  shakes  his  curls  in  answer  to  her  ofTer 
of  help,  and  his  eyes  glow  with  triumph  when  he 
finds  that  he  can  support  himself  on  his  own  two 
sturdy  legs. 

Baby  learns  that  he  can  walk,  that  he  can  reach 
things,  that  he  can  open  and  close  doors,  that  he 
can  select  from  many  articles  before  him  the  par- 
ticular one  he  wants;  and  so  soon  as  he  is  con- 
scious of  his  ability  to  act  for  himself  he  does  it. 

But  birthdays  come  and  go,  and  John  is  thir- 

262 


The  Passing  of  Childhood  263 

teen,  and  alive  in  every  nerve  and  fibre  with  the 
full-pulsed  life  of  the  American  temperament;  he  is 
ambitious,  and  seeks  ideals  and  models  from  the 
great  world  outside  the  walls  of  home,  and  he  talks 
excitedly  of  what  "  other  boys "  do,  and  finds 
precedent  for  the  individual  liberty  he  is  beginning 
to  pant  and  chafe  after.  Mary,  with  the  first  lustre 
of  life  yet  fresh  on  her  brow,  has  shed  infantile 
docility  like  a  garment,  and  has  haunting  visions  of 
the  joys  of  independence.  It  all  seems  sudden  to 
the  parent,  and  it  is  not  quite  pleasant.  There  is 
a  pretty  sentiment  in  favor  of  prolonging  baby- 
hood, and  the  world  is  brutal  and  ugly,  and  inno- 
cence is  precious.  Besides,  the  instant  our  fledg- 
lings are  out  of  our  sight  untold  anxieties  begin 
for  us.     We  are  incHned  to  put  off  the  evil  day. 

This  is  the  way  a  sentiment  can  make  us  selfish, 
and  fears  for  the  future  make  us  unjust.  We  have 
no  right  to  choose  what  is  easy  for  ourselves,  how- 
ever, rather  than  what  is  best  for  our  children.  It 
is  the  growing  manhood  and  womanhood  in  them 
that  begins  to  assert  itself  and  claim  recognition. 
The  wings  meant  for  wide  flight  ere  long  are  rap- 
idly unfolding,  and  the  courage  soon  to  be  essen- 
tial is  manifesting  itself  in  the  feeling  of  pride  and 
dignity  which  makes  our  boy  long  to  go  and  come 
as  he  pleases,  and  our  girl  to  make  her  own  en- 
gagements and  decide  upon  her  own  affairs.     This 


264.         The  Passing  of  Childhood 

looks  alarming,  but,  after  all,  it  is  no  great  matter, 
for  what  the  children  really  crave  now  is  liberty 
to  exercise  their  own  judgment. 

John  is  dying  to  establish  radical  differences  be- 
tween himself  and  the  little  "  kids  "  whose  duty  it 
is  to  be  under  watch  and  ward.  He  knows  he  is 
not  a  member  of  the  Small-fry  Society  any  longer; 
he  has  been  living  and  learning  for  a  dozen  years 
and  more,  and  he  knows  enough  now  to  take  some 
responsibility  upon  himself.  And  the  girl  is  no 
less  womanly  in  her  own  estimation;  she  feels 
herself  worthy  of  trust,  and  at  this  juncture,  if  a 
mother  is  wise  she  will  gratify  this  natural  and  in- 
evitable ambition.  It  would  be  most  injudicious 
to  draw  the  lines  closer  when  youthful  high  spirits 
begin  to  pull  upon  them.  Liberty  is  to  be  re- 
tarded only  for  a  year  or  so  at  the  most,  and  for 
every  restraint  imposed  there  will  be  a  correspond- 
ing excess.  It  is  well  known  that  some  of  the 
wildest  youths,  the  friskiest  young  women,  were 
kept  down  to  a  strict  regimen  as  long  as  parental 
oversight  lasted.  They  came  to  regard  restraint, 
even  when  kindly  meant,  as  an  evil,  to  like  their 
own  way  just  for  its  own  sake;  and  the  result  is 
anything  but  pleasant  when  young  persons  with 
untrained  wills  and  judgment  are  turned  loose 
upon  the  community.  If  they  are  not  wilful  they  -^ 
are  weak;    and  accustomed  to  yield  to  stronger 


The  Passing  of  Childhood  265 

minds,    they   become   the   prey    of    unscrupulous 
leaders. 

The  world  claims  our  children  from  us  in  good 
time,  and  our  constant  aim  should  be  to  prepare 
them  within  the  sanctuary  of  home  for  the  self- 
government  they  ought  to  exercise  as  soon  as  they 
leave  our  care.  The  preparation  must  consist  in 
a  gradual  substitution  of  their  own  judgment  for 
ours.  Beginning  in  trifles  it  should  extend  to 
nearly  all  matters  by  the  time  they  reach  fourteen 
or  fifteen.  After  that,  in  a  well-ordered  home,  com- 
mands should  be  obsolete.  This  is  not  to  say  that 
government  should  be  suspended.  There  is  no 
such  thing  in  all  this  world  as  entire  Independence. 
We  are  all  "  under  the  law,"  but  in  enlightened 
communities  not  offensively  so;  not  subservient, 
only  rationally  deferential.  And  this  is  the  rule 
for  parents  to  observe  with  their  half-grown  chil- 
dren; to  have  them  feel  that  they  are  not  so  much 
under  government  as  ot  one  with  it;  that  they,  in  a 
sense,  make  their  own  laws  by  being  reasonable, 
and  deferring  to  larger  experience  where  their  own 
falls  short. 

Never  was  there  more  need  for  tact  and  forbear- 
ance upon  the  parents'  side,  for  at  best,  and  even  in 
homes  where  there  has  always  been  confidence, 
affection,  and  sympathy  between  their  children  and 
themselves,  this  period  when  childhood  is  fading 


266         The  Passing  of  Childhood 

into  the  background  with  all  its  graces  and  beau- 
ties, and  giving  way  to  adolescence  with  its  un- 
couthness  and  its  crudities,  is  a  trying  one.  To  the 
onlooker  who  cares  nothing  about  the  young  bud 
struggling  through  its  rough  green  covering,  the 
period  of  adolescence  is  simply  an  ugly  period,  to 
be  borne  with,  as  far  as  possible,  as  one  bears  other 
periodical  afflictions;  but  to  the  eyes  of  love  it 
has  other  aspects. 

There  is  something  pathetic  in  the  struggle  of 
the  child  to  cast  aside  its  child  nature  and  put  on 
the  nature  of  manhood  and  womanhood.  He  is 
beset  internally  by  misgivings,  even  while  he  is 
urged  on  by  ambition.  He  wants — he  scarce 
knows  what;  but  something  new,  and  never  be- 
fore possessed.  Perhaps,  in  a  nutshell,  the  great 
desire  of  his  soul  is  to  be  left  somewhat  to  himself, 
yet  with  sympathy  within  call,  and  to  be  trusted. 
It  is  a  great  evidence  of  tact  now  for  the  mother 
or  father  to  say,  with  a  kind  smile,  "  Do  What  you 
think  best  about  this  matter,  my  son.  You  are  old 
enough  to  judge  what  is  right."  Happy  respon- 
sibility !  Delightful  confidence  !  influence  is 
never  stronger  than  when  it  withdraws  slightly 
into  the  background,  leaving  its  object  apparently 
free. 

A  good  deal  is  said  nowadays  about  the  extraor- 
dinary freedom  our  children  have.     Seemingly  it 


The  Passing  of  Childhood         267 

is  so.  But  looking  here  and  there  an  observer 
notes  little  real  change  among  the  average  people. 

A  young  friend  of  mine,  whose  happy  married 
life  has  not  yet  driven  from  her  memory  a  cramped 
and  embittered  youth,  confided  to  ime  that  the  one 
idea  that  haunted  her  from  eight  to  eighteen  was 
that  of  running  away  from  home.  If  she  had  been 
less  conscientious,  a  little  more  ireckless,  what  a 
gulf  of  ruin  her  innocent  feet  might  have  plunged 
into,  to  escape  the  intolerable  nagging  and  inter- 
ference she  was  subject  to  in  her  father's  house  ! 

We  little  know  What  effect  our  thoughtless  and 
meaningless  words  of  comment  and  childing  for 
every  small  matter  that  goes  wrong  produce  upon 
the  half-grown  girl  and  boy.  They  are  apt  to  be 
reserved,  and  to  become  sullen  under  restraints 
they  dislike,  and  when  this  sullen  attitude  once  sets 
in  we  may  say  farewell  to  all  confidential  inter- 
course between  parent  and  child.  To  avert  such 
an  evil  we  will  do  well  to  apply  all  our  powers  of 
tact  and  kmdness.  Let  us  avoid  arousing  the 
spirit  of  perv^rseness  that  stirs  in  every  young 
creature  at  this  period  of  life,  'and  by  enlarging  his 
opportunities  for  action  as  his  ambition  extends, 
soothe  any  budding  revolutionary  ideas  and  inspire 
in  him  the  trust  and  confidence  in  parental  benevo- 
lence that  will  be  his  safeguard  when  he  needs  ad- 
vice and  assistance.      For  youth  never  stands  in 


268         The  Passing  of  Childhood 


deeper  need  of  wise  guidance  than  at  this  time 
when  there  is  a  desire  to  dispense  with  it.  But 
the  guidance  must  be  so  wise,  so  tactful,  so  gentle, 
that  even  the  most  independent  young  soul  ,will 
feel  that  love,  and  not  force,  is  the  motive  power 
that  draws  him  toward  what  is  best,  and  that  he  is 
restrained  by  nothing  except  his  own  honor  and 
trained  sense  of  right. 


The  "  awkward  age  "  is  with  some  happily  balanced  chil- 
dren little  more  than  a  name,  but  with  many  it  is  a  period 
of  real  trial  and  a  time  of  mortification  and  uneasiness  to 
their  parents.  They  are  ungainly  and  noisy,  and  make  the 
speeches  that  interested  friends  blush  to  hear.  They  are,  in 
a  word,  infelicitous  in  every  way,  and  one  has  to  fight  a 
strong  desire  to  banish  them  out  of  sight  until  they  nail 
have  come  into  better  relations  with  their  surroundings. 
Yet  there  is  no  doubt  that  these  unfledged  men  and  women 
undergo  as  much  suffering  themselves  as  their  maladroit  con- 
duct inflicts  upon  others,  and  the  only  thing  that  we  can  do 
for  them  now  is  to  let  them  alone.  In  time,  all  the  careful 
training  they  have  had  during  their  childhood  will  show 
results,  and  their  chaotic  ideas  and  opinions  will  settle  down 
into  an  orderly  arrangement,  just  as  their  arms  and  legs 
will  grow  less  conspicuous  from  being  brought  into  proper 
proportion  with  the  rest  of  their  bodies.  The  parental  van- 
ity that  makes  us  sensitive  to  their  defects  of  person  and  of 
manner  must  be  conquered  enough  to  keep  us  quiet  and 
patient  while  nature  turns  our  ugly  duckling  into  the  swan. 


Plannins:  for  Our   Children 


"to 


Long  ago,  when  I  was  a  child  myself  in  years, 
I  read  this  sentence  in  Macaulay's  Essays,  and 
copied  it  into  my  note-book:  "  Nothing  is  more 
conducive  to  happiness  than  the  free  exercise  of 
the  mind  in  pursuits  congenial  to  it."  The  experi- 
ences of  later  life  have  confirmed  that  swift-leaping 
recognition  of  a  great  truth,  which  impressed  me 
then  rather  with  a  prophetic  sense  of  its  import 
than  as  advice  to  be  considered  as  immediately 
applicable.  What  was  dimly  perceived  then  as 
touching  upon  certain  constraints  and  limitations, 
against  which  my  young  protests  were  strongly 
excited,  has  grown  more  distinct  and  taken  a  wide 
range  as  I  have  come  to  observe  the  unhappiness 
wrought  in  other  lives  through  thwarted  instincts 
and  mistaken  application  of  energy. 

One  of  the  most  natural  things  in  the  world  is 
the  belief  that  what  is  agreeable  to  ourselves  is 
good  for  other  people.  Selfishness  disguises  itself 
under  the  name  of  solicitude,  and  when  an  uncon- 
genial acquaintance  is  wanted  out  of  the  way  he 
is  assured  that  the  climate  of  Algeria  will  benefit 
him.     Society  offers  many  temptations  of  this  sort, 

270 


Planning  for  Our  Children         271 

but  our  influence  over  friends  is  according  to  the 
measure  of  their  weakness.  If  they  know  what 
they  like,  no  persuasion  from  us  can  make  them 
prefer  our  suggestions  to  their  own  ideas,  and  our 
power  Hes  only  in  the  way  of  affecting  their  imagi- 
nation. 

But  over  our  nearest  and  dearest  we  exercise 
the  strong  influence  of  affection  and  intimate  re- 
lationship. If  there  is  one  member  of  any  family 
who  has  a  passion  for  management,  he  is  likely  to 
make  life  very  anxious  for  the  rest.  "  I  should 
like  to  know  if  there's  anything  in  the  world  you 
don't  feel  called  on  to  see  to  !  "  exclaimed  the 
grandmother  in  "  Old-town  Folks  "  to  her  strong- 
minded  daughter  Lois,  when  that  spinster  had 
taken  away  httle  Horace's  Latin  book  so  that  he 
might  the  better  centre  his  ambition  upon  the 
shoemaking  for  which  she  destined  him.  Such 
acts  of  interference  are  not  uncommon,  and  they 
are  not,  unhappily,  confined  to  spinster  aunts, 
whose  decrees  are  subject  to  revision  by  those  in 
greater  authority;  but  wives  foresee  their  hus- 
bands' peculiar  fitness  for  certain  careers,  and  art- 
fully cast  a  glamour  over  something  utterly  re- 
moved from  previous  experience;  husbands  take 
the  liberty  of  deciding  the  province  in  which  their 
wives'  talents  lie,  and,  above  all,  parents  plan  the 
future  lives  of  their  children,  and  surround  them 


2/2         Planning  for  Our  Children 

from  the  cradle  with  a  network  constructed  of 
their  own  preferences  and  prejudices,  so  that  only 
the  most  resolute  and  original  minds  escape  to  en- 
ter upon  the  life  for  which  nature  has  designed 
them. 

Among  my  young  friends  is  a  lad  who  has 
shown  from  his  kindergarten  days  decided  taste  for 
literary  studies.  He  was  unfortunately  early  de- 
prived of  the  care  of  a  tender  mother;  and  his  father, 
having  a  craze  for  science,  has  fairly  bullied  the 
child  out  of  pursuits  he  loves  and  set  him  at  the 
grind  of  a  manual-training  school.  The  chemical 
laboratory,  which  to  minds  having  a  bias  that  way 
would  be  delightful,  is  to  him  merely  "  a  bad 
smell."  He  once  walked  fourteen  miles  in  a  pelt- 
ing rain  to  procure  a  Latin  grammar,  and  pores 
over  it  every  spare  minute,  while  his  short-sig^ited 
parent  dins  what  he  terms  "  common  sense  "  into 
his  unwilling  ears,  and  binds  this  natural  student 
to  work  that  has  a  demoralizing  effect  upon  his 
not  over-strong  nerves. 

Another  instance  of  misplaced  ambition  is  that 
of  a  mother  who  decreed  that  her  only  son  was  to 
go  through  Harvard.  He  was  a  ruddy-cheeked, 
boisterous  young  fellow  when  I  first  saw  him,  and 
his  soul  was  set  upon  things  aquatic.  His  whole 
talk  was  of  steamships,  catboats,  wherries,  etc., 
and  he  had  picked  up  a  really  surprising  amount  of 


Planning  for  Our  Children         273 

information  from  library  books,  and  was  enthu- 
siastic upon  this  one  subject,  while  dumb  as  an 
oyster  when  the  conversation  turned  upon  other 
matters.  I  suggested  sending  him  to  AnnapoHs 
to  prepare  for  the  navy,  where  family  influence 
might  have  materially  aided  in  his  career,  but  his 
mother  stubbornly  resisted  any  interference  with 
her  plans.  The  other  day  the  news  came  to  me 
that  the  boy  had  run  away  from  school  and  was  on 
board  a  cruiser  bound  for  Japan. 

This  running  away  is  the  almost  certain  expe- 
dient of  determined  natures.  History  teems  with 
stories  of  boys  fleeing  from  uncongenial  occupa- 
tions, and  not  nearly  so  often  to  shirk  work  as  to 
enter  upon  work  for  which  they  feel  themselves 
fitted.  Yet  this  wrench  which  sets  them  free  from 
unbearable  tasks  parts  them  also  from  the  tender 
ties  of  home  life,  and  exacts  a  sacrifice  of  afifection 
which  even  genius  must  weep  over.  I  know  of  a 
woman  who,  as  a  precocious  girl  of  fourteen,  was 
restrained  from  revolt  against  the  scheme  of  edu- 
cation arranged  for  her,  when,  to  her  fancy,  the 
world  offered  no  enchantment  equal  to  an  artist's 
brush  and  a  box  of  colors,  by  reading  the  following 
sentence  in  Charles  Kingsley:  "  I  have  known  girls 
think  they  were  doing  a  fine  thing  by  leaving  un- 
congenial parents  and  cutting  out  for  themselves, 
as  they  imagined,  a  more  elevated  or  useful  line  of 


274  Planning  for  Our  Children 

life  than  that  of  mere  home  duties,  while,  after  all, 
poor  things,  they  were,  in  the  name  of  God,  neg- 
lecting the  command  of  God  to  honor  their 
father  and  mother."  Conscience-bound,  she  went 
through  the  routine  appointed  for  her  for  six  long, 
weary  years,  when  accident,  not  her  own  decision, 
made  an  artist's  career  possible  to  her.  "  But  I  lost 
six  of  the  best  years  of  life,"  she  said,  sadly,  "  be- 
cause my  poor  mother  was  convinced  that  she 
knew  me  better  than  I  knew  myself." 

It  is  certain  that  in  early  youth  people  often 
know  themselves  better  than  after  the  world  has 
pulled  them  out  of  shape.  The  longings  and  as- 
pirations of  childhood  are  sometimes  heaven-sent 
visions  of  our  true  vocation  in  life.  Not  always. 
Some  natures  seem  to  require  a  certain  amount  of 
experimenting  before  the  right  work  can  be  found. 
jThe  happiest  gift  a  person  can  possess  is  the  ability 
Tto  recognize  his  own  powers  early.  The  earlier 
the  better,  for  education  grows  constantly  more 
complex,  and  the  preparatory  steps  to  each 
specialty  are  longer  now  than  they  used  to  be;  so 
that  time  and  energy  are  precious  and  not  to  be 
lightly  wasted.  Ordinarily  children  do  not  think 
much  about  what  is  to  come  after  their  school  days 
are  ended,  and  it  is  not  well  to  force  upon  them 
the  view  of  their  coming  responsibilities.  Let 
them  have  their  period  of  dalliance  and  lightness. 


Planning  for  Our  Children         275 

But  we  can,  without  their  knowledge,  gain  much 
insight  into  their  natures  and  aid  them  in  a  true 
self-development.  We  can  direct  their  activities 
into  useful  channels  and  learn  what  they  can  do 
by  their  method  of  doing  what  we  set  for  them. 
"  Our  work,"  said  Carlyle,  "  is  the  mirror  wherein 
we  first  see  our  natural  lineaments." 

The  trouble  with  educators  is  that  they  are  apt 
to  see  in  the  young  a  reflection  of  themselves,  and 
interpret  signs  wrongly.  We  want  to  force  our 
own  individuality  upon  others  when  perhaps  they 
have  individuality  of  their  own  entirely  different. 
This  would  not  occur  if  all  parents  were  convinced 
of  the  truth  of  Macaulay's  saying,  that  "  happiness 
is  chiefly  to  be  found  in  congenial  work."  Such 
a  large  part  of  the  lives  of  most  of  us  must  be 
passed  in  work  that  it  is  heart-rending  to  think 
how  many  people  are  passing  the  day  in  uncon- 
genial labors,  going  about  their  tasks  mechanically, 
while  deep  down  in  their  souls  is  some  yearning 
that  shall  never  find  expression  in  this  world.  No 
matter  if  it  is  a  yearning  for  something  not  so  good 
as  the  thing  they  are  doing,  not  so  high  nor  so  honor- 
able. High  and  low  are  only  conventional  words, 
and  have  nothing  to  do  with  happiness.  The  one 
perfect  bliss  is  an  inspiration,  and  it  comes  at  times 
to  every  one  who  is  pursuing  his  natural  vocation. 
In  the  midst  of  pain  and  despair  it  flashes  over  the 


276         Planning  for  Our  Children 

artist  at  his  easel;  while  he  stammers  and  fears  to 
fail,  it  breathes  sweet  suggestion  into  the  ears  of 
the  orator;  perplexities  and  weariness  are  forgot- 
ten by  the  little  dressmaker  who,  loving  her  art, 
feels  the  stimulus  of  a  new  idea.  And  who  shall 
interpret  the  deep  joy  of  the  born  sailor  as  he  gazes 
upon  a  starry  night  over  the  infinite  waves  and 
feels  himself  afloat  in  his  natural  element  ?  How 
do  we  know  but  that  the  scissors-grinder  who  pre- 
fers grinding  scissors  has  his  moments  of  pleasure 
over  a  well-ground  blade,  even  as  the  cook  tri- 
umphs in  the  success  of  her  entree.  It  matters  not 
what  work  we  do  in  the  world  so  that  it  is  our  work, 
and  the  gratifications  attending  congenial  occupa- 
tion are  so  immense  that  even  partial  success  in 
life — that  is,  less  money  and  less  rank  than  we  wish 
— gives  us,  upon  the  whole,  more  happiness  than 
a  complete  prosperity  gained  at  the  expense  of 
much  dull  and  embittering  grind  in  an  occupation 
chosen  solely  with  a  view  to  that  end. 

It  is  true  there  are  facile,  adaptable  natures  that 
seem  able  to  accommodate  themselves  to  any  cir- 
cumstances and  can  do  one  thing  as  well  as  an- 
other; but  people  of  this  sort  usually  need  a  large 
amount  of  pleasure  outside  of  their  work,  if  they 
do  not  shirk  work  altogether.  There  are  many 
drones  in  the  great  human  hive,  but  they  are  not 
born  intentionally.      The  world  needs  persons  of 


Planning  for  Our  Children         277 

talent,  of  energy,  and,  above  all,  of  rightly  directed 
industry.  It  is  the  duty  of  parents  to  see  to  it  that 
their  children's  steps  are  early  set  in  the  path  that 
may  lead  them  to  usefulness  and  contentment;  to 
give  them,  as  far  as  possible,  a  chance  for  develop- 
ment of  their  natural  abilities,  and  leave  them 
liberty  of  choice  as  to  their  life  pursuit. 

There  is  a  certain  amount  of  general  culture 
essential  to  every  rank  of  life,  and  as  regards  this 
we  cannot  abate  duties  to  humor  a  child's  whims. 
But  let  us  repress  the  disposition,  so  natural  to  a 
parent,  to  make  a  child  the  vehicle  of  our  own 
ambition;  let  us  refrain  from  appointing  the  infant 
to  a  particular  niche,  or  ordaining  that  at  any  cost 
of  pain  to  him  he  is  to  accomplish  a  certain  destiny. 
Such  planning  is  presumptuous.  There  is  a  tend- 
ency in  every  being  to  unfold  in  a  fashion  of  its 
own,  and  our  duty  is  to  watch,  to  help,  and  to  en- 
encourage,  and  to  respect  the  wonder  of  indi- 
viduality 

We  should  not  put  a  young  mind  through  any 
mill  because  that  mill  is  fashionable,  nor  because 
it  has  always  been  patronized  by  our  family.  Tra- 
ditions and  customs  are  bagatelles  compared  with 
the  welfare  of  a  single  human  being.  Yet  they 
are  larger  in  our  eyes  because  easier  understood 
than  character.  To  that  we  are  apt  to  attach  less 
importance  than  to  worldly  success.    But  oh,  that  is 


278  Planning  for  Our  Children 

such  a  will-o'-the-wisp  !  Our  planning  cannot  se- 
cure it  for  our  children.  After  taking  the  greatest 
trouble  we  may  see  them  perish  of  want,  no  matter 
what  we  may  have  chosen  for  them.  Let  us  plan 
but  little,  then;  let  us  leave  their  souls  free.  Suc- 
cess ! — success  is  doing  well  the  thing  we  were 
formed  to  do. 


/ 

"»  ^"v  f  .<. 


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